No Way Home (14 page)

“You look cheerful today, Reverend,” the young man said as they avoided colliding on the step.

“Well, it’s a fine day, son,” said the Reverend Davis.

Jordan watched the minister go down the steps and get into a two-tone green Ford that struck him as somehow familiar. Jordan wished he felt half as cheerful as the old reverend. He opened the door to the town hall and ran into Francis Dunham, the dispatcher, who directed him to the sheriff’s office. “He’s not there, though,” Francis said. “He’s going out to a meeting.”

“Has he left yet?” Jordan asked.

“I think he’s in the men’s room,” Francis said brusquely.

Jordan hesitated a moment, and then walked down the corridor to the men’s lavatory and pushed the door open. He swung the inner door back and walked inside. Royce Ansley was zippering up at the urinal. His hat hung on a hook outside a stall.

“Sheriff,” said Jordan. “Can I bother you a minute?” His voice echoed loudly off the tiles.

“Can it wait?” Royce asked, walking to the sink.

“No, not really,” Jordan replied. “I’m heading back to New York this afternoon and I wanted to speak to you before I left. Francis said you were on your way out to a meeting.”

Royce turned on the faucet, rolled back his sleeves, and dispensed a little liquid soap into his palm. “That’s right.”

Jordan could read the sheriff’s dislike for him in his eyes as he squinted into the mirror above the sink. He pretended not to notice and went on.

“I’ve been concerned about the investigation. I know you have the whole county to think of, and I was wondering if it might not help to hire a private detective. Someone who could devote full time to the case. We don’t want to let the trail get too cold here.”

Royce lathered his hands carefully and then rinsed them. He turned to Jordan as he shook them off, and droplets of water splashed on his jacket. “Didn’t you play a detective on a TV show one time?” Royce asked.

Jordan’s face hardened as he returned the sheriff’s gaze. “Yeah, I did. What has that got to do with anything?”

“Isn’t that what they say on TV? Don’t let the trail get cold?”

Before Jordan could answer, Royce pushed the disk on the hot-air dryer and began to rub his hands together beneath it. The dryer’s roar made it impossible for Jordan to be heard. He waited until the dryer was finished and the sheriff began to roll down his sleeves.

“Look, Sheriff,” Jordan said, “I’m not trying to step on your toes, but I want some results. It was my daughter who was killed.”

Royce walked over and picked up his hat and jacket. His gray eyes peered off into the distance. “You know, Mr. Hill, I remember the day that child was born. Lillie went into labor, and she called me to come get her and take her to the hospital. Had you left for good by then, or were you just getting ready to leave them?”

“I was there,” Jordan said coldly.

“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t leave until after you found out all that was wrong with the baby.”

The door to the men’s room swung open and the deputy, Wallace Reynolds, came in. He looked at the two men who were glaring at one another and then he greeted the sheriff. “Do you need me to come along on this, Sheriff?” he asked.

“No, you look after things here, Wallace.”

“Okay, I will. I’ve just got to take a quick piss.”

“I’ll see you outside,” said Royce. He pushed through the inner door and Jordan followed him outside.

“I don’t care what you think about me, Royce,” Jordan said. “But you better get the guy who killed my daughter.”

“That’s all I want,” Royce said evenly.

“And I want to be kept informed,” said Jordan.

“Feel free to call anytime,” the sheriff said blandly. “Someone will fill you in. Right now I have nothing to tell you.”

Jordan saw the futility of saying anything more. This man saw him as an outcast, almost as undesirable a being as the killer they sought. This was a town where people did not forgive and forget. He had once fled the responsibilities of a sick child and a young wife to chase a dream. Now all doors were closed to him here. No explanation would ever open them again. He could understand it in a way. It was too much to expect. He had once left his daughter’s fate in the hands of others, and it was too late to want it back. Now he had no choice but to trust it to them. Jordan turned and left. He and the sheriff did not bother to say good-bye.

IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOWED JORDAN’S DEPARTURE
, life resumed something like its normal shape. Pink tried to sell off a corner of a large farm to a guy who wanted to start a rental operation for four-wheelers, but the seller backed out at the last minute. Lillie volunteered a lot at the hospital, and she and Brenda and Loretta had a full calendar of luncheons and dinners that required the services of Home Cookin’. There were no more calls about the ad in the paper. Royce came by occasionally to report that he was questioning one person or another, or to show them lab reports on minutiae collected at the crime scene. The murder weapon was not recovered, although the lab determined that it had been made of wood. Only Grayson had any positive news to report. He won the school election handily and quarterbacked the Cress County Cougars to a winning game. Lillie tried to be excited for him, but it was difficult to feel enthusiasm. She was glad that her son’s life seemed to be going forward. Often she felt as if her own was just going on.

On a Monday afternoon in late October, a pounding on the front door woke Lillie out of a sound sleep. The digital alarm clock read four-thirty, and Lillie could hardly believe that she had been asleep for over an hour. During the day she tried hard to keep a good attitude, but when it became too difficult, sleep was her escape hatch. The only drawback to the oblivion of sleep was that she awoke with a familiar, fearful feeling of emptiness and loss.

“Just a minute,” she mumbled, and then called out louder, “I’m coming.”

She stumbled down the hallway toward the front door, running her hands through her hair to push it back from her face and pinching her cheeks awake. She opened the door and looked out. At first she did not see anyone there. Then she noticed that Allene Starnes was seated on one of the porch rockers, wiping her eyes with both hands. Lillie walked out on the porch and shivered in the chilly October afternoon. She sat down on the rocker beside the girl.

“Allene?”

The girl looked up at Lillie with red, puffy eyes. “Hello, Miz Burdette.”

“What’s the matter, honey?” Lillie yawned and shook her head. “Excuse me.” She drew her sweater tightly over her chest.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” the girl said sorrowfully.

“That’s all right,” said Lillie. “I’ve got no business sleeping at this hour.”

“Is Grayson home?” Allene asked.

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe he came in while I was asleep.” Lillie got up and opened the front door. “Grayson,” she called sharply into the house. There was silence from inside.

“Do you know where he is?” Allene asked.

Lillie frowned. “He said this morning that he was meeting someone after school. I just assumed it was you.”

“It was supposed to be me,” Allene said. “He was supposed to meet me by my locker. Right after school.”

“And he didn’t show up?” Lillie asked, her voice rising.

Allene started to weep and shook her head. Tears flew off her face like rain off a wet umbrella.

Lillie’s palms suddenly felt sweaty. There’s some simple explanation, she told herself. He’s practically a grown man. He can take care of himself. But no rationalization quelled the fear that suddenly gripped her. “I don’t know,” she said agitatedly. “Maybe he had to go somewhere with Russell or one of the other boys. He’ll probably show up any minute.”

“I knew it.” Allene sobbed. “I knew it. He was planning this.”

“Allene, what is it?” Lillie demanded.

“Everything,” Allene wailed. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait a minute,” said Lillie. “Wait. If you know where he is, please tell me. I’m worried about him. If he said he was going to meet you…”

“I guess he changed his mind,” Allene said in a small, hard voice.

“But where could he be?” Lillie cried.

“I have a hunch,” Allene said bitterly.

And suddenly Lillie understood that there might be another girl involved. “When he gets home I’ll tell him to call you,” she said gently.

“Never mind,” said Allene. “It’ll be too late.” Allene ran down the porch steps, got on her bicycle, and headed back down the road in the direction of town. Lillie watched her go. On the one hand she pitied her and hoped she would not end up broken-hearted. On the other hand she prayed that Allene was right, and he was safely keeping company with another girl. Allene’s coppery hair looked like a little flame in the mottled brown of the autumn landscape. Love is so painful when you are young, she thought. Your heart is so vulnerable. The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts and her heart leapt. Maybe it was Grayson. She closed the front door and went in and took the call. The sound of the voice on the other end gave her a start. “Jordan?” she asked.

“How are you doing, Lillie?”

Lillie looked out the window and down the road, hoping to see her son coming. “I’m getting by,” she said. There was a silence from Jordan’s end. “Look, Jordan, I can’t tie up the phone.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” His voice was deep and he had the actor’s ability to sound rich and confident, but Lillie could hear the worry and the distracted edge in his tone.

“Where are you?” she asked, more kindly. “Are you in New York?”

“Yeah. Back at work and all. I was wondering if there was any news yet. I didn’t want to bug you but it’s frustrating, not knowing what’s going on.”

“Believe me,” she said, “you know as much as we do. I said to Pink, I think the sheriff is as discouraged as we are. But there doesn’t seem to be much we can do about it.”

“I guess not,” he said.

Lillie heard someone coming down the hall and she turned around, hoping to see Grayson. It was Pink.

“By the way,” she said to Jordan, “your mother came by to see me.”

“She did? How did she seem to you? I’ve been concerned about her.”

“She seemed all right. She’s pretty tough. She’s been through a lot in her time. As a matter of fact, she ended up making me feel a little better.”

“That’s good.” There was real relief in Jordan’s voice. “I was afraid that this might be too much for her.” Lillie could hear a certain tone in his voice that she recognized from long ago. He was getting ready to settle in for a serious talk. Pink had gone out and returned to the room, carrying a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a glass. He poured himself a shot, frowning into the glass. She knew the frown was not intended for the whiskey.

“Well,” she said briskly, “I’ll let you know if we hear anything.”

“Oh, okay,” said Jordan, sounding a little surprised.

“Thank you for calling.”

“Take care of yourself, Lillie.”

“I will. Good-bye, now.” She hung up the phone.

“Well,” said Pink. “What did Romeo want?”

Lillie looked at him coolly. “Jordan was curious about the investigation.”

Pink shook his head as he poured another shot. “What a golden opportunity.” He sighed. “He’s been waiting a long time for a chance like this.”

“Pink,” she said. “I’m worried about Grayson. He was supposed to meet Allene after school…”

Pink deliberately tossed off the shot. “After the day I’ve had, it’s great to come home and find my wife getting cozy on the phone with her ex.”

“Did you hear me?” said Lillie. “Grayson didn’t meet Allene and he didn’t come home…”

“For God’s sake,” said Pink. “He’s sixteen years old. He probably found something better to do.”

“What if he had an accident or something?”

“Don’t be hysterical, Lillie.”

“I’m sorry. I worry about him. I’ve already lost one of my children. I can’t help worrying.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m worried too. I’m worried about my wife and her ex-husband.”

“Jordan called to find out if there’s any news about Michele’s murder. Does it seem odd to you that he would want his daughter’s killer to be caught?” she said angrily.

“Oh, that’s right. He’s the real father. I forgot.”

Lillie looked sadly at her husband. “Pink, you were the only real father Michele ever had. Nobody would ever say anything different. I’m just trying to explain to you why he is concerned.”

“Father,” Pink scoffed. “He was no father. He was a hard dick. That’s all he was. And now he sees his chance to wave it around in front of you again.” Pink raised his glass and drained it. “Here’s to him.”

“Oh, Lord,” said Lillie, walking toward the door.

He followed her down the hall to the kitchen. “Don’t you turn and walk away from me, Lillie.”

She wheeled around and faced him. “Then don’t talk like a pig!”

“I know,” he said. “You’re right.” He put the cap back on the bottle and set it down on the counter. “I’ve had a bad day,” he muttered.

Lillie opened the refrigerator door and looked inside. She did not feel like talking to Pink. She sighed and took out a package of hamburger steaks. Then she looked up at her husband.

“Do you think we should go out and look for Grayson?” she asked.

“It’s not even dark!” Pink wailed.

“All right,” Lillie snapped, still holding the package of meat in her hand. “I just wondered. Allene was so upset…”

“He’s too young to be tied to one girl,” said Pink. “He’s got his whole life ahead of him. Lillie, I feel rotten. I’m gonna lie down.”

“Go ahead.”

“Call me when those things are cooked,” said Pink.

“I will,” Lillie said with a sigh.

Allene knew where to look for him. She knew it in the pit of her stomach. It was as if a little demon were alive inside her stomach, twisting and tormenting her. She knew it before she ever went over to his house. She got the idea when she was waiting for him outside school and she called out hello to Russell Meeks and asked him if he’d seen Grayson. Russell had blurted out that he’d seen him not long ago, talking to Emily Crowell. And then suddenly Russell looked away guiltily and Allene knew right then and there.