Holly Grove Homecoming (9 page)

A
fter he left
Carly’s house, Trooper tried to go to sleep and failed. An inability to sleep had plagued him ever since his last assignment, and as soon as he was physically able, he’d stopped trying to sleep and started running in the mornings. Today he left for his run just as dawn was breaking.

He looked toward Carly’s house as he passed and saw no lights on. Hopefully she’d been able to get back to sleep. He’d check on her later and make sure she was doing okay.

He jogged on past her house and turned right at the corner, heading into downtown Holly Grove. He’d always loved the original downtown area. The actual settlement of the town was now obscured by the passage of time, but local historians had traced some of the current townfolk back to the period just after the Revolution.

None of the earlier town buildings had survived. They had been built of wood, and fires were common in that period, but the courthouse had been constructed of brick in the 1840s and had withstood the ravages of the Civil War. Most of the fighting in the area at that time had been guerilla warfare, and the tales were not pretty on either side of the conflict.

“Hello, Trooper. Welcome back.”

The greeting that interrupted Trooper’s train of thought came from a dim yard to his right, so he stopped his run and turned toward a familiar picket fence. He still couldn’t make out a form in the thick shadows, but he recognized that voice even after twenty years away. “Hello, Mr. Underwood. How are you?”

“Good, Trooper. Good. You look healthy enough for a man who was shot not that long ago. How are you doing?” Sam Underwood was the father of Tommy Underwood, one of Trooper’s boyhood friends. Mr. Underwood walked over to lean on the fence. He’d aged, but not badly.

Trooper nodded. “I’m recovering. Thanks for asking. You look healthy enough yourself. I assume you’re retired from the post office by now.”

“Yep. Last spring. The school system asked me to substitute teach after I retired, but I turned them down. I didn’t want to get that involved with the young folks of today. They’re not cut out of the same cloth as you and Tommy.”

“How is Tommy?”

“He’s doing good. He married Charlotte Matthews and moved to Nashville for a while. They had a couple of rug rats before they divorced. Charlotte remarried and still lives in Nashville with the kids. Tommy came back here. He’s selling cars for your uncle Joey and makes a darn good living at it. So how long are you staying, Trooper?”

Trooper stifled a sigh. “I don’t know yet. I’m on indefinite leave. The FBI’s doctors figure it takes a while to get over…” He hesitated. “To get over getting shot.”

“Yep, I guess they would. Well, you and Tommy should get together, have a beer and rehash… eh, I mean. Well shit, Trooper. You know what I mean.”

“I know Mr. Underwood. And it’s okay if you mention my high school years and my parents. I came to terms with what happened a long time ago.”

“Did you, Trooper? A lot of folks think you’re going to start investigating the incident. Some figure that’s why you went into the FBI to start with, so you’d develop the skills you needed to decide for yourself what really happened.”

“Do they? Well, as you know, Mr. Underwood, the sheriff figured there wasn’t any question, considering the note Larry left and the gun being in his hand and all.”

Mr. Underwood nodded. “We all know what the sheriff found and what the sheriff thought. But he was a good old boy who got hired because people liked him. Didn’t mean he knew how to investigate a crime scene like that.”

When Trooper said nothing, Mr. Underwood ran a hand over the top of his balding head and stepped back. “I’ve interrupted your run long enough. I’ll tell Tommy you might be giving him a call.”

“Sure, Mr. Underwood. Or tell him to give me a call at Aunt Myrna’s. We’ll try to get together while I’m in town. See you later.”

Trooper resumed his run at a slower pace to give his body time to warm up again, but his mind was racing. He’d put off starting his investigation to allow time to spend with his aunt Myrna and to become reacquainted with the town. But now he figured he was simply putting off a task because it could easily turn unpleasant.

Later today, he’d make it a point to visit his uncle Joey at his car dealership, and if Tommy Underwood happened to be there, well, so much the better. Tommy had been one of the first people on the scene the day Trooper’s parents were killed, and because Trooper had been so upset in the weeks that followed, he’d never worked up the courage to ask Tommy what he remembered. He just hoped Tommy hadn’t forgotten anything important he might have heard or seen that day.

Since his run took him past the bakery, Trooper stopped to pick up half a dozen of the doughnuts his aunt Myrna had always liked so much. He considered getting a couple of Danish and dropping them off at Carly’s house, but he had no reason to think she’d be up yet or, even if she was, that she’d invite him in for a cup of coffee. Best to get the doughnuts and go on home. He just wished he didn’t feel so disappointed at the thoughts of not seeing Carly again that morning.

He also wished he didn’t like Carly Morrison so much. Somehow, she brought out in him a joy in living that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Still, he couldn’t help thinking sometimes that Carly wasn’t being completely open with him.

But more than likely the problem lay in him. He’d learned over the years to distrust people until they earned his trust. And it hadn’t required a shrink to explain why. First, his world had been blown apart not only by the deaths of his parents but also by the accusation against his mother contained in that note left by Larry Abbott. Then he’d joined the FBI and been exposed to the true scum of the earth for the past fifteen years. Distrusting anyone new was now an ingrained reaction.

After a quick stop at the bakery, Trooper jogged on back to Sugar Maple Drive, slowing as he passed Carly’s house. The sun was up bright now, and if there were any lights on inside, he wouldn’t be able to see them. Maybe he’d give her a call this afternoon to make sure she was doing okay after last night’s experience. Yes, that’s what he’d do. That was the neighborly thing to do. And the thought made him downright happy.

He was even happier when he saw Myrna seated in the wicker rocker on her front porch, a cup of coffee in her hand. As he jogged toward her, she greeted him with a quick wave and a cheerful smile. “Good morning. Is that a bakery bag I see you carrying?”

Trooper paused at the bottom of the steps. He set the bag down and began doing his stretching exercises to cool off. “Yep. I wish I knew what to do with these doughnuts I brought from the bakery.”

Myrna raised her brows. “I might be able to help you out with that little problem, but it will cost you.”

Trooper grinned. He’d missed the verbal sparring he and his aunt had always enjoyed. “What’s it going to cost me?”

“Well, taking doughnuts off a body’s hands is a chore, but being the generous soul I am, I’d probably settle for something simple, like having my coffee warmed and a paper napkin fetched from the kitchen.”

“That’s cheap enough.” Trooper finished his exercises, picked up the bag, and climbed the steps. He set the doughnuts on the table beside his aunt’s chair, then picked up her half-empty coffee cup. “I’ll be right back.”

“By the way, you had a long distance phone call while you were gone.”

Trooper’s heart sped up again. Surely he wasn’t being called back to duty this quickly. He’d been told he could take as much time as he needed so he hadn’t rushed to begin his investigation. Maybe that had been a mistake. His mouth had gone dry when he asked, “Did this person leave a message?”

“It was your former partner’s widow calling to ask how you were getting along. We had a nice conversation. She seems like a nice lady.”

Trooper’s heart rate began returning to normal. “Suzanne’s a great lady. She doesn’t seem to blame me for Hank’s death.”

Myrna got to her feet and stared at Trooper with lifted chin. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t think much of her if she did blame you. From what I read about the situation, you were half killed trying to save your partner and that little girl.”

Trooper didn’t blink. “You can’t believe everything you read. Give me a minute and I’ll get our coffee.” He wrapped his fingers around his aunt’s cup, pulled open the screen door, and stepped inside. Her deep sigh followed him as he walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Trooper waited until mid-morning to return Suzanne’s call, hoping she’d have gone out somewhere by then. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Suzanne, but he’d have felt a lot less guilty if she hated him for living when Hank didn’t make it.

But even if talking to Suzanne did make him feel guilty, she deserved to hear from him occasionally, so he called her and assured her that he was doing fine. No, he said, the agency hadn’t told him a thing about when they wanted him back on duty. And yes, he’d take plenty of time to recuperate.

He thanked her for calling, then hung up and told himself he’d had a wakeup call this morning. He could no longer put off investigating his parents’ deaths. He was going to begin, and he was going to begin today, before time ran out on him.

Although he was now in a hurry to get started, he was in no hurry to have the folks of Holly Grove figure out what he was doing. He could only hope that a visit to his uncle Joey and a chance encounter with an old friend who worked at the car dealership wouldn’t stir up any more suspicions.

Although in Holly Grove, one never knew.

T
rooper spent
the remainder of the morning helping Myrna with her usual chores. Together, they watered the impatiens in the flowerbed near the sidewalk and then the various pots of greenery on the front porch. Hanging baskets on the screened-in porch were also due for a drink. After that, and before the day heated up too much, he cranked up her old mower and cut the grass.

While he was outside, he looked around for clues that might help him solve the mystery of the strange noise that had disturbed him and Carly.

A shrub near the edge of the lawn but directly across from his bedroom window had suffered a couple of broken limbs. Actually, they could more accurately be described as twigs, but still there was no reason for them to have been broken. They were too high to have been disturbed by a passing animal, whether domesticated or wild.

No, Trooper was quite certain that the person responsible for that strange thumping sound had either run into the shrub or brushed into it in passing. Tonight, he decided, he’d lie in wait and see if he couldn’t surprise his nocturnal guest.

He’d like to catch the culprit in the act and throw a scare into them, and he hoped he could do so before this person disturbed Carly again. She shouldn’t have her sleep interrupted because someone was upset that he’d come back to town.

He walked to the corner of the house and glanced across the street again. He’d looked over there every chance he got this morning but thus far had seen no signs of Carly. Was she sleeping in or was she writing? Whatever, he couldn’t think of any particularly good excuse to call her just yet. Maybe after he got back from his uncle Joey’s, he’d drop by to make sure she was okay.

He waited until after lunch to pay his unannounced visit to his uncle Joey’s business. The dealership was on the opposite side of town, so he had an opportunity to view a few more of the changes that had taken place on the far side of the downtown area in Holly Grove.

The little movie theater on the outskirts of town had been turned into a gift shop. The grocery store where his mom had always shopped wasn’t even standing anymore. In its place was a strip mall with a dozen tiny storefronts with overhead signs advertising services ranging from a paint store to a small-motor repair shop. Damping down his unanticipated feelings of depression, Trooper decided to keep his eyes on the road until he reached his destination.

Uncle Joey had obviously done well for himself. His original building had been enlarged and remodeled to the point that Trooper wouldn’t have recognized it had it not been for the huge Johnson’s Automobiles sign near the street.

He turned into the lot and pulled into one of the parking spaces beside the large plate glass window on the left side of the showroom. His uncle’s office had originally been just inside this door. No telling where it was now, he admitted to himself as he cut his motor and pulled his key out of the ignition.

Trooper wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect from Tommy Underwood. They’d been best friends in high school, and they’d been planning to meet at Trooper’s house to shoot a few hoops in the backyard the day Trooper’s mom and dad were killed. Tommy had arrived at the house before Trooper got back from Millertown with the school’s banner.

In the weeks that followed the murders, Trooper had shut everyone out of his life. The unbelievable pain of losing his parents, followed by the unremitting horror of knowing everyone in town considered his mother to be an adulteress and a pedophile, had resulted in Trooper turning inward.

In an effort to protect himself, he’d dropped his friends and devoted his efforts to getting out of Holly Grove as fast as he possibly could. Looking back, he suspected that in his attempt to insulate himself from further pain, he’d hurt a lot of the people who loved him, including Tommy. He hoped his old friend wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.

Even as he reached for the handle to open his car door, Trooper saw Tommy dashing out of the showroom. Trooper hurried to exit the car, and when he did, Tommy was there, pulling him into a bear hug.

“Damnation, Trooper Myers, but it’s good to see you.” Tommy’s face, which showed little signs of aging, was slightly ruddy, as though his emotions ran high. “I wondered if you’d come to see me.” He dropped his hands and stepped away from the hug. His smile faded. “Or were you just wanting to see your uncle? Unfortunately, Joey’s not here right now. He’s gone to a conference in Arizona.”

Trooper slapped Tommy on the biceps, just as they’d done when both of them were still more boys than men. “Hello, you old rascal. Actually, I was hoping to see both of you, but since Uncle Joey’s gone, you’ll have to do.”