Holly Grove Homecoming (21 page)

Carly moistened her lips. “I think it was
Pap.
It sounded like
Pap.
But when I asked Eric if
Pap
was the man’s nickname, he clammed up. The next time I went to visit him in the shelter, he was gone.”

“You think he ran again because he’d said the fellow’s nickname?”

“I do, yes.”

“If that’s why he ran, then you must have heard the name correctly.”

“I think so too, and ever since I moved to Holly Grove, I’ve listened to conversations around me, hoping to hear of someone called Pap. I’ve read the local newspaper. I even went to the newspaper office and researched back issues, but I’ve never run across that name. And of course I couldn’t ask anyone about it for fear that whoever I asked might alert the man, and who knows what he might have done then.”

“You’re sure Eric wasn’t referring to his father?”

“I’m sure. His father died when he was a baby.”

“What about a stepfather?”

“No. Eric’s mother didn’t remarry, at least not when Eric lived here. I tried to find his mother when I first arrived in Holly Grove, but I discovered that she’d moved away after Eric disappeared. Apparently she married a man from Nashville and no one knows her new last name.”

“Then we can’t find her to tell her about Eric’s death.”

“I suspect she gave her son up for dead a long time ago, but she has a right to know what happened to him. I’ll ask Jeff to see if he can locate her.”

“Are you sure Eric didn’t tell his mother what had happened to him?”

“He didn’t tell anyone at all until he told me. Or so he said, and I believed him.”

“So that leaves us looking for a man who may or may not be nicknamed Pap?”

“That’s about it.” Carly picked up her empty wine glass and stood. “I’m tired, Trooper, and I’m upset. I don’t want to spend tonight alone. Would Myrna mind very much if you stayed with me?”

He shook his head. “I’ll phone and tell her what the circumstances are. She wouldn’t want you staying alone tonight.”

“Thanks.” Carly knew her smile was weak, but she had already decided that she had to put her grief aside if she was going to find the man who had abused Eric.

And she
would
find him. She had no doubt of that. Especially now that Trooper knew as much as she did and the two of them could work together.

Carly started straightening up the kitchen while Trooper called Myrna. He talked softly and Carly caught only a word here and there, but she gathered that he was explaining to Myrna that Carly had received news of the death of an old friend. He soon hung up and turned back to Carly. “Myrna sends her condolences and says she’s happy you won’t be alone tonight.”

Carly nodded. “Thanks, Trooper.” She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. He took two steps, which brought them face to face. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

“We’ll find the bastard who abused Eric, and I suspect we’ll find that the same man killed Larry Abbott and my parents. We’ll start making plans tomorrow. But tonight you need to rest.”

Carly wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “Tonight I need to forget, Trooper, and I need to feel safe and wanted. I need you to make love to me.”

His hands slipped from her shoulders and around her back until he could pull her close. “Keeping you safe and making love to you are the two most important things in the world to me right now.”

Carly kept her head pressed against his chest for a few more seconds, then looked up into his face. “Let’s go to bed, please,” she said before taking his hand and gently pulling him toward the guest bedroom.

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

L
ying
with Carly snuggled up close to his side, Trooper had expected to sleep through the night, especially after two bouts of extremely satisfying lovemaking. He’d gone to sleep with a smile on his face. He awoke with every muscle tensed, screaming to move, to run, to escape the scene that was forever burned into his consciousness. A scene that consistently invaded his dreams.

He sat straight up, breathing hard, wondering where the hell he was. Not in the mountains of North Carolina obviously.

“Trooper?”

Carly’s voice pulled him all the way out of the dream. His heart rate started slowing, but the room was still dark, and although he was groggy, he finally managed to speak. “I’m okay. Sorry I disturbed you.”

Her fingers trailed a slow path down his back. Nothing erotic. More for comfort, he decided. Then the mattress shifted as she sat up beside him. “Don’t worry. You didn’t disturb me. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Did I say anything? In my sleep, I mean.”

“No, nothing but a groan or two. You were having a bad dream obviously. Why don’t we go to the kitchen and get something to drink. I hate staying in bed after I’ve had a nightmare.”

Trooper pulled in a deep breath and exhaled. He was sorry he’d disturbed Carly. His presence was supposed to have helped soothe her sorrow over the loss of her friend. Some comfort he’d been. He ran a hand over his face. “What time is it?”

“Almost five. Neither of us is going to go back to sleep. Come on, let’s get up.”

She patted his arm once, then rolled to one side and reached to turn the bedside lamp on low. He turned his head to watch her get out of bed. And to admire. Her bare back. Her firm buttocks. Her long legs. She really was beautiful.

She walked a few steps to the chair where she’d left a robe. She picked it up and slipped her arms in before turning around. That was his cue, he supposed. He swung his legs off on the other side of the bed, then bent to retrieve his shorts from the floor where he’d kicked them. He pulled them on before turning.

Morning-after behavior, he supposed. But that was okay. Carly’s smile was one of fondness. He tried to return it, but his lips were simply too stiff, so he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

She returned his hug, then stepped back so she could look into his face. “What’s not to understand? I’ve had my share of nightmares, especially before my stalker was caught, but even after he was in prison, the terrifying dreams went on for over a year. You’re not three months away from your trauma. You need to cut yourself some slack.”

His lips finally stretched into a smile. “That’s what the shrinks kept telling me.”

“But you weren’t buying it?”

“Not by a long shot. Why should I? I came out alive. Three others didn’t.” He dropped his arms to his sides. He knew from experience that this was a conversation that tended to go in circles and he had no desire to hop on that merry-go-round again. “Didn’t you mention going to the kitchen for something to drink?”

To her credit, Carly seemed to tune in immediately to his feelings. “Absolutely. I can make some coffee if that interests you.”

“Sounds great. Shall I jog down to the bakery and get us some Danish?”

“Not for me, thanks. I’d prefer an omelet because I need some protein. What about you?”

“Not a bad idea. I seem to have used up a lot of energy over the last few hours.” He grinned.

“Same here,” she responded, matching his grin. “Some coincidence, huh?” She looped her robe’s belt. “I’ll let you wash up in the bath across the hall, and I’ll go to the other bathroom, then meet you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” He paused, then leaned in for a quick morning peck on the lips. “See you soon.”

* * *

L
ess than an hour later
, Trooper had helped Carly polish off a large egg, cheese, and green pepper omelet with whole wheat toast and orange juice. Now both sat cradling a final cup of coffee. Trooper hated to interrupt their comfortable silence, but he suddenly felt the need to talk about what had happened in April. Interestingly, Carly was the only person he’d ever wanted to confide in. He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been to North Carolina, Carly?”

She looked across the table at him with slightly widened eyes. “Sure. I’ve been to Charlotte several times, and my family vacationed at the Outer Banks one year.”

“Anywhere else in the state?” Trooper asked. He dropped his hands into his lap and grasped his thighs, hoping to will away the tremor that usually set both his voice and his hands to shaking when he tried to talk about April.

Carly frowned, then shrugged. “We also visited Biltmore House one year around Christmas, so that means we were near Asheville.”

“But have you ever been back in the mountains where the roads are narrow and curvy and sometimes the gaps are so deep you have to look up to see the sky?”

“No. I’ve been through the mountains, of course, but only on the interstate. Even that was a little scary considering they had just cleared a rock slide.”

Trooper rubbed his hands along the tops of his thighs. Fortunately, his palms were sweating less than usual, and his voice was almost steady. “When you get off the main highways and onto the backcountry roads, you simply drive out of one curve into another with the land jutting straight up on one side and dropping off into a ravine on the other. I still wonder how work crews managed to build those roads back when they didn’t have much more than picks and dynamite to work with.”

“It obviously would have been a challenge,” Carly agreed. Trooper could see that she was watching him closely, wondering where he was going with this story. He wondered himself, not where he was going, but whether he could tell the story all the way through this time.

He’d given verbal accounts a couple of times when he was in the hospital. He’d even written an incident report later, but after that, his mind had rebelled. He hadn’t been able to talk about April again until today. Strangely, telling Carly—while not easy—seemed like the right thing to do. He moistened his lips and began talking again.

“The bastard who’d kidnapped little Audrey—I’m assuming you read about what happened?”

Carly nodded. “I did. She was three years old if I recall correctly.”

“That’s right. And her kidnapper was on meth, which gave him courage and sapped any common sense he might ever have possessed. If he’d been in his right mind, he would have known he couldn’t get ransom from her parents. They were upper middle class but far from wealthy enough to raise two million dollars.”

“That was the ransom demand?”

“Yes. Audrey’s parents called the FBI right away. The father knew there was no way he could come up with the money, and he assumed we would be able to get his little girl back in one piece.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Carly asked. Trooper appreciated that she was giving him an out, but he didn’t want to take it. At the same time, he couldn’t watch her face. He dropped his gaze to the table.

“My friend Hank and I were assigned to the case. The two of us were hired at the same time and just clicked, the way people do sometimes. We spent a lot of time together after work up until Hank married and even after that, he and his wife had me over a lot. She called me the other day.”

“You sound surprised that she would call.”

“I am, I guess. She should hate me.” Trooper flinched, then shook his head. “Sorry. I know that sounds like survivor’s guilt speaking. I’ve heard a lot of psycho babble in the last few weeks. All the doctors want to tie my reaction to Hank’s and Audrey’s deaths in with what happened to my parents twenty years ago. Survivor’s guilt times two. Supposedly that makes my situation worse. But sometimes survivor’s guilt is justified.”

“True,” Carly said. Her voice wasn’t quite steady, and Trooper looked up quickly, only to discover that Carly was looking down, running her fingertip along a tiny scratch in the tabletop.

“You blame yourself for not saving Eric,” he said flatly.

Carly didn’t look up. “Sometimes,” she said. “Even though logically I know I did all I could, there’s a little voice down deep that keeps taunting me, saying I should have done more.” Her face flushed even as she huffed out a little laugh. “I don’t know why I’m even talking about my feelings. My situation with Eric pales beside what you’ve gone through.”

Trooper swiped his hands one last time on his jeans, then reached across the table and grasped her hand. “You can’t quantify survivor’s guilt. The shrinks kept trying to get me to say that I felt worse about not saving Hank or little Audrey because I hadn’t saved my parents. That’s a bunch of bull. Besides, I’m not even sure those doctors know what survivor’s guilt feels like. If you haven’t experienced it, can you know how it feels?”

Carly met his gaze. “I doubt it. I suspect everyone has to face their own particular problem and learn to deal with it in their own way.”

Trooper nodded. “I know what you mean. You’re trying to find the man who’s guilty of abusing Eric and shut him down, while I’m trying to clear my mother’s name. Coincidentally, our goals intersected and our paths have merged.”

“True, but you’re still burdened by recent events. We got sidetracked while you were talking about the typography of the North Carolina mountains. Do you want to continue to talk about that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Trooper said. “You see, the problem for Hank and me was that the kidnapper had taken Audrey to his house, which was perched halfway up the side of a mountain. It was early April, and the trees hadn’t fully leafed out yet. There was no way to get to the house without him being aware that we were approaching, but we had high hopes of talking him down. We hadn’t factored in his craziness due to his meth addiction. We’d called for back-up, and both Hank and I were hunkered down in a bank of rhododendrons on the edge of the road, waiting for the negotiators to arrive, when—”

A sharp tapping on the back door interrupted him and accelerated his heart rate. Carly’s hand, which he still held, twitched as she jumped in her chair. She reclaimed her hand and twisted around to gaze at the door leading outside. “It’s barely dawn. Who in the world can that be?”

Trooper stood. “I’ll check,” he said as he headed across the kitchen floor. He would have felt more comfortable if he’d had a gun on him, which might seem silly to some people considering the peacefulness of Holly Grove. But he was more aware than most that evil lurked somewhere in the town.

Carly had also stood. “See who it is before you open the door,” she told him.

“I will.” Venetian blinds covered the top portion of the door. He grasped the wand and twisted to open the blinds, but he couldn’t make out more than a form standing outside.

“The switch there by the door turns the porch light on,” Carly said.

He nodded, then flipped the switch. “Good grief. It’s Marge Abbott.”

“Are you sure? I’ve heard she never goes outside her house.”

“It’s Mrs. Abbott all right. Shall I let her in?”

Carly rushed to join him in peering out the window. “Poor thing. She looks terrified. Something could be wrong at her house. We’d better see what she wants.”

Trooper responded by unlocking the door and opening it slowly. He wasn’t sure he trusted Marge Abbott. She’d given every appearance of being unbalanced in the days since he’d returned to Holly Grove, and he didn’t want to give her an opportunity to cause mischief if that was her aim.

Carly obviously felt no such reservations. She smiled at Marge. “Mrs. Abbott, do come in. I hope this doesn’t mean that your husband is unwell.”

Marge took a tentative step into the kitchen. She wore an old-fashioned cotton duster and a pair of terrycloth scuffs. Her voice hitched around a frog in her throat as though she rarely spoke. “Ralph’s fine. He doesn’t know I’m here.” She slowly looked around the kitchen, then frowned. “This doesn’t look like it did when the Jarvis family lived here.”

Carly took a step back. “I made some changes after I bought the house.”

Marge nodded once. “I like it.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I broke your window. I never meant to. Ralph says we have to pay for it, and I’m willing. Ralph doesn’t make a lot in the barbershop these days, but I’ve got some money put back. I don’t ever go anywhere to spend money. I’ll pay.”

“That’s not necessary,” Carly said. “Why don’t we sit down at the table? Trooper and I just finished a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

“Mostly I just wanted to talk to Trooper.”

Trooper captured Carly gaze and widened his eyes, silently asking how she wanted to handle this strange situation. She gave him a quick smile, then grasped Marge’s arm and steered her toward the table. “At least have a glass of juice with us. Or water if you prefer.”

“Coffee would be all right I guess,” Marge said. “I haven’t slept much, so I could use a pick-me-up.”

“Sugar or cream?” Carly asked. She was already pouring a fresh mug of coffee.

“Just black,” Marge replied. “Would you join me, Trooper?”

Trooper took the coffee from Carly and set it on the table in front of Marge. She wrapped her hands around the mug for a few seconds before lifting it toward her lips. Coffee almost sloshed over the side. “I’m a little nervous,” she murmured, carefully placing the mug back on the table without tasting the coffee.