No Way Home (19 page)

‘This looks great,” Lillie said to Brenda, who kissed her cheek. “I just feel guilty that I didn’t help.”

“Don’t worry. We’re not putting up with these excuses much longer, right, Loretta?” said Brenda.

Loretta giggled and congratulated Lillie on the award Gray was getting. “And you look real pretty.”

“I’d better get back,” Lillie said. “See you later.”

She walked out of the ballroom and back toward the front rooms where the social hour was going on. As she came up from behind she saw a familiar stiff-backed figure standing in the shadow of one of the arched doorways. He was wearing a suit, and his short crew cut looked as if it had been starched.

“Royce,” said Lillie, before she could catch herself.

The sheriff turned and looked at her with grim, unsmiling eyes. “Hello, Lillie.”

She felt guilty looking him in the eye, given all the ugly thoughts she’d had about his son. At the same time she could not help but wonder. Was it possible? Did he know? He looked so uncomfortable and lonely standing there. He rarely went to social functions since Lulene died, unless, as in this instance, his presence was virtually required. Leave him be, she thought. He had always been such a decent man. But she couldn’t help herself.

“How is Tyler doing at the Sentinel?” she asked in a voice that she tried to keep very neutral.

She noted the slight hesitation, the way he turned his eyes away from her. But his voice was calm. “Tyler is having difficulty adjusting, I’m sorry to say. But that’s the story of Tyler’s life.”

It was the only time she had ever heard him refer, even obliquely, to his disappointment in his son. Although it was no secret. How could it be? It seemed cruel to press the point, but she felt as if she must.

“It was just so sudden the way you took him off to school. Had you been planning that for a while?”

Royce’s eyes looked haunted in his leathery face. “Let’s say it had been coming for a long time,” he said evenly.

“You know, I never realized that he and Michele were close until recently.” Lillie could feel herself trembling as she said it.

“Tyler and Michele?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lillie said brightly. “I believe she was quite fond of Tyler.”

“I didn’t know that either,” said Royce. “I wasn’t aware of anyone who was fond of Tyler. Except for myself, of course,” he added in a flat voice.

Lillie almost wished she had never spoken. She felt so sorry for him again, and she felt guilty for even thinking such terrible things of him and his only child.

“We haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said.

Royce looked into the crowded foyer, but his gaze was distant. “I have not forgotten Michele,” he said, “if that’s what you mean. She is always on my mind.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Lillie said gently. “I know you’ve been working on it. Will you excuse me, Royce. I have to talk to some people.”

“Oh, sure,” said the sheriff. “It’s a big night for Grayson.” She thought there was a bitter note in his tone, and she looked back at him. He was pushing his way in the direction of the bar. With a son like Tyler, she thought, no wonder he was bitter.

She entered the room and, in a moment, was swept up in a welter of greetings and handshakes. The social hour passed swiftly, and then everyone surged into the ballroom and took seats at the assigned tables. Grayson was seated at the head table. Lillie and Pink found their seats near the front. As everyone took their places, the CC president, Sterling Grisard, tapped his glass for attention. The room quieted down and he thanked them all for coming. Promising speeches for after dinner, he introduced one of the two men in clerical garb at the head table, the Reverend Ephraim Davis, who would say grace.

After the black preacher stood up and delivered a brief prayer in a deep voice, everyone began eating. As the din of conversation rose, the woman beside Pink said, “How about that. A black preacher saying grace. He doesn’t even have his own church here. He’s just filling in over at Mt. Olive.”

Pink drained the wineglass beside his plate and looked around the table for the bottle. “Well,” he said, “you know the Chamber’s got two black members this year.”

“Who’s that?” asked the woman.

“They own the Crispy Chicken franchise out on Route Thirty-one.”

“Oh, yes,” said the woman. “I guess I saw that in the county paper.”

“They’ve got a Pakistani this year too,” Pink said. “He and his wife own the motel out on Crystal Lake.”

The woman buttered a hot roll and plunked it down on her plate. “Next year they’ll be saying grace in Hindu.” She sniffed.

Pink chuckled and then leapt from his seat as he saw Brenda passing by with a wine bottle in her hand. “Can I get a refill?”

Brenda came over and rolled her eyes at Lillie. “I gotta tell you, this is some job. I’ll be glad when you’re back. Grayson looks so handsome up there. Is that a new suit?”

“He just got it.” Lillie nodded.

“I swear he’s the handsomest guy in the room.”

Lillie smiled and looked proudly at her son, who was conversing earnestly with the businessman next to him.

The dinner progressed pleasantly and soon it was time for speeches and presentations. They sat patiently through the introduction of new members, a memorial for a recently deceased Chamber “ambassador,” a speech about economic growth in Cress County, and finally they came to the leadership awards. Pink, who had been refilling his wineglass at every opportunity, applauded loudly as Bomar Flood took the podium. Lillie could see that the back of Pink’s neck was red, and beads of perspiration shone on his shiny forehead.

“…a young man who has distinguished himself in his schoolwork, school activities, on the playing field, and in the family circle,” Bomar said. “We are proud to present him with this award.”

As warm applause rose and Gray stepped up to the podium, Lillie saw Bill and Betty Starnes get up from their table and walk to the door, their faces solemn. Lillie blushed with embarrassment as her son started to speak.

Grayson raised the plaque and took his time giving it an appreciative glance. Then he leaned over the podium. “Did I really do all that?” he asked in an ingenuous voice. The women giggled and the men in the audience shifted in their seats. “Well,” he said, “I am deeply moved by this honor.” His speech was brief and selfless, emphasizing service and duty. When he was done, Bomar patted him on the back, and they shook hands again, to more applause. Grayson sat down and Lillie felt herself relax. He had done well. He had sounded a little smug at first, she thought, especially after the Starneses’ silent protest, but everyone seemed to like the speech.

Pink turned and looked at her, his eyes glistening in his florid face. “It’s all worth it,” he said, his voice slurred a little. “It’s worth everything.”

“What is?” Lillie asked as the woman next to Pink said, “You should be very proud of that young man.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pink assured her. “We are very proud.”

The remaining speakers droned on until Lillie thought she was going to doze off, and then, suddenly, it was over, and people were getting to their feet. Friends and neighbors came around, congratulating Lillie and Pink. At the edge of the group Loretta, still in her apron, stood talking to the clergyman who had given the invocation. Lillie noticed that no one else seemed to be talking to them. She excused herself and went over to Loretta.

“Loretta,” she said, “excuse me. I just wanted to say how lovely it all was. You guys did a great job. You sure you two still need me?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” said Loretta. “That was a beautiful speech your boy made.”

“Why, thank you.”

Loretta gestured toward the clergyman beside her. “Lillie, I want you to meet a dear old friend of me and my family, Reverend Davis. Reverend, this is Miz Lillie Burdette.”

Lillie shook hands with the old preacher. “It’s nice to have you here, Reverend.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Burdette. You’re often in my prayers.”

Lillie looked at the old man in surprise. “I am?”

“Your family, I mean. Your daughter.”

“Oh, thank you, Reverend,” said Lillie. “That’s kind of you.”

“Has the sheriff been able to make anything out of what I told him, do you know? I never heard back from him.”

Lillie frowned and shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

The old man tried to brush it off, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. “It must not have been important.”

“No, please tell me what you mean,” Lillie insisted.

“Well, I simply told the sheriff how I saw your daughter that night—”

“The night she was killed,” Lillie interrupted.

“Yes, walking alone toward the road to the Arches. I was lost on the road, you see…”

Lillie felt as if a fist were tightening inside her. “She was alone? Walking along alone?”

“Well, yes. But then I saw a young man down at the Arches. Didn’t the sheriff mention this to y’all? He must have cleared it up right away.”

Lillie’s hands were icy and her knees felt as if they could scarcely support her. “What young man?” she asked quietly.

“He was down by the bridge. She was a lovely girl, Mrs. Burdette. She gave me directions on the road and then, as I turned into that dirt road to turn around, I caught sight of a young man down there.”

Lillie struggled to keep her voice calm, casual. “What did he look like?”

The reverend rubbed a grizzled cheek nervously. “Well, I only saw him for a second. He looked to be a tall, well-built boy. Black hair. Kind of longish. Didn’t the sheriff tell you all this?”

Lillie shook her head. Loretta peered into her face. “Honey, you don’t look too good,” Loretta said. “Why don’t you come sit down.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Burdette,” said the Reverend Davis. “I shouldn’t have reminded you of all that on this happy occasion.”

Lillie squeezed the old man’s hand as if she were gripping it for support. “No,” she whispered. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Here, sit,” said Loretta, helping Lillie toward a chair.

Lillie turned a pleading face to the other woman. “Loretta, I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Well, I’ll tell your husband.”

“No, I’m all right. I’ll tell him.” Lillie patted away Loretta’s solicitous hand and walked in a daze toward Pink, who was standing in the middle of a crowd with Grayson. She gestured to him but he just smiled broadly at her.

“Pink,” she pleaded.

Grayson heard her voice and turned, raising the plaque to show her. Pink had an arm draped over the boy’s shoulders. Lillie nodded distractedly at Grayson and the triumph in his eyes faded. She indicated that she wanted to talk to Pink. Grayson spoke to his father and Pink came toward her, dragging the reluctant young man with him.

“How about this boy?” he asked.

Lillie nodded. “Pink, I have to talk to you. Have you seen the sheriff? Have you seen Royce? I have just heard something. I think there’s something going on. I can’t believe it myself…”

“What is this?” Pink growled. “What?” Grayson just stared at her.

Quickly, Lillie told him of her conversation with the Reverend Davis. “He saw a boy,” she concluded, her voice trembling. “A boy who sounds a lot like Tyler Ansley.”

Pink was looking at her with a grimace on his face, as if he had happened across a messy accident.

“Pink,” said Lillie, “the sheriff never said a word to us about this. An eyewitness.”

Pink looked over at the minister. “Why should we believe the likes of him? What was he doing out there anyway, talking to Michele?”

Lillie grabbed her husband’s forearm and shook it. “Pink, for God’s sake, I think it was Tyler he saw there.”

“It could have been anybody,” said Pink. “We all look alike to them. That’s probably why the sheriff never mentioned it.”

“Or it could have been Tyler, and the sheriff knows it,” Lillie exclaimed.

Grayson was staring at his parents.

“Lillie, get ahold of yourself,” said Pink. “Why would Tyler Ansley want to hurt Michele?”

“I don’t know,” Lillie wailed. “But it would explain why Royce hasn’t found a killer yet. Why we don’t get any information.”

Pink glared at his wife. “I thought Royce Ansley was our friend. Is that what you suspect him of now?”

“Tyler is his son. Who knows what he would do for his son?”

“Well,” Grayson interrupted with a rueful grin. “I guess it was silly of me to think I’d be the one in the spotlight tonight.”

Lillie turned and stared at her son. She had felt the familiar stab of guilt at his remark, but all at once she felt something snap inside. “Stop whining, Grayson,” she said. “I won’t listen to it. I know this is important to you. But your sister was murdered, and that is more important than some award. Yes, it is.”

Grayson drew back from her, angry surprise flickering in his eyes. In the next moment he looked contrite, his face pale and downcast.

“I want to go home,” said Lillie.

Pink looked at her indignantly. He reached into his pocket and handed her his car keys. “We’ll get a ride from someone else,” he said, dropping them in her hand. “Grayson can’t leave yet.”

Lillie felt her face blush hot with anger at his indifference. She grabbed the keys with a trembling hand and started for the door. Brenda called out to her as she passed by but Lillie kept on walking, out across the lawn into the damp night. She got into the car and drove off. The whole way home her mind was churning.

They were trying to punish her for caring, but it wouldn’t work. Why didn’t they care just as much as she? That was the real question. Pink had been hell-bent on getting Ronnie Lee Partin. But once she came up with the facts about Ronnie Lee, he seemed to lose interest. Now, when Tyler was a possible suspect, he didn’t even want to hear about it. And Grayson was no better. All he seemed to think about was himself. All kids were self-centered. She knew that. But if he would only be a little more concerned, he might be able to come up with some information about Tyler. They had been in school together for years. Surely he could find out something about the boy. Well, she thought, if she had to do it alone, then she would. The important thing was to find the killer. She parked in the driveway and entered the dark, quiet house.