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Authors: Patricia MacDonald

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BOOK: No Way Home
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“I’m not finding it,” said the boy.

“It was probably late afternoon, early evening,” said Jordan anxiously. He could hear a brisk footfall on the stairwell. “Do you see it yet?” Sweat was popping out on his forehead.

“Here it is,” exulted the cadet. ” ‘Call Mr. Burdette.’ It says to call Mr. Burdette at his office. Not at home. And this is the number.” The boy looked up at Jordan. “Do you want to write the number down?” he asked.

“Mr. Hill, what do you think you are doing with that log?” The colonel had entered the lounge and was striding across the room to the desk.

The cadet looked in confusion from the colonel to Jordan. “Did you need the number?” he asked worriedly, closing the book.

“No,” Jordan replied, turning away from the desk. ‘That won’t be necessary.”

Chapter 24

HAVING STRETCHED AND STRAINED
through fifty minutes of an exercise video, Brenda was rewarding herself with a cup of yogurt while she listened to a Crystal Gayle tape on her Walkman. She was sitting at her kitchen table, humming loudly along to the tape, when she looked up and saw a man pressed against the sliding glass doors at the end of the room, peering in. Yogurt splattered on her leotard as she jumped up with a shriek, and then her face relaxed into a scowl as she recognized her visitor.

She padded down to the doors and pulled them open angrily.

“Jordan Hill, didn’t you ever hear of the doorbell? You about scared me to death.”

“I tried it,” he said. “You didn’t answer, but I saw your car.”

“Well, you’re here now. Come on in,” she said irritably. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I’m looking for Lillie,” he said. “No one was home over there so I figured I’d try your place. Have you seen her?”

“Oh, I see,” Brenda said knowingly. “Well, she’s been in and out. Don’t ask me where she went. What is going on with you two anyway? Are you two getting back together? She won’t tell me anything.”

“Look, Brenda, I have to talk to her right away,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where she is right now. She got up early this morning and went out—”

“She spent the night here?” Jordan asked.

“Oh, don’t act so innocent,” said Brenda. “Of course she did. She and Pink had a huge fight. I’m guessing it must have been about you.” She pressed a long, orchid-colored fingernail into his sternum.

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t,” he mumbled. So, he thought to himself, Lillie must have found out that Pink called Tyler. She must have. Why else would they have had such a fight? What the hell is going on? he asked himself for the hundredth time since he’d left the Sentinel.

“When did you get back to town anyway?” Brenda asked querulously.

“Brenda, I can’t talk,” he said. “Do you have any idea—”

“Nobody will tell me anything,” Brenda complained. “And no, I don’t. She came back in a while ago and she was pacing around like a wildcat in a cage and then she said she had to go off somewhere and be by herself, to think. That’s all I know.”

“She didn’t say where?”

“Nope. But she’s in a state. I can tell you that.”

Jordan frowned as if he were concentrating. “Well, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Hey, listen, Jordan. Don’t go butting into this if you’re just going to cause her grief. She doesn’t need any more grief.”

“Thanks, Brenda,” he said wryly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ever since she had arrived at Crystal Lake and walked out to the end of her jetty, Lillie had been aware of the family that was camping in a clearing about a quarter of a mile away from her around the shoreline. She had gone there, as she had so often in the past, to try to sort out her situation; but from the moment she sat down, it was as if nothing else in the world existed for her except those campers in the clearing. Her mind refused to focus on anything at all but the group huddled by the lakeside around their campfire.

It was late in the season to be camping. Most people had given it up months ago. This family seemed oblivious to the rawness of the day. They had their fire, and the father and son had spent a good part of their afternoon fishing while the mother, wearing a vest and a bulky sweater, did needlework in a folding lawn chair and kept her eye on her young twins, who were playing some imaginary scene out in the clearing. Now they were all gathered around the fire, cooking the fish, and their voices were like bells in the air. The smell of the food made Lillie’s empty stomach yearn, and she had the idea that the woodsmoke from their campfire was causing her eyes to burn, even though it was too far off to reach her. But tears were forming in her eyes as she watched them. There was no doubt of that. Watching them was like watching people in a dream. Their words were indistinct and their actions made her feel heartsick, although nothing that they did was in any way strange or sad. She felt the exhaustion of the past day cornering her, seeping into her, and her eyelids began to droop.

No, she thought, shaking her head. You have to think. You have decisions to make. But it was no use. She felt herself getting limp, and she lay on her back on the jetty, the weak, waning sun still warm on her face. The drowsiness consumed her, and in a moment she was asleep. She slept lightly, the discomfort of the boards beneath her and the gradually cooling air around her contributing to her fretful, repetitive dreams. She dreamed that the campers were leaving, gathering up their things and going. The fire was doused and only a few wisps of smoke rose from the sodden ashes. They were scrambling into the RV, and the engine was running, although one of the twins was not in evidence, and Lillie wanted to cry out a warning to the mother, who seemed oblivious to this fact. In her dream Lillie could not understand why they were suddenly leaving, when they had seemed so comfortable there. She made her way over to their campsite and saw, to her anxious alarm, that they had left many of their belongings behind, although there was no rhyme or reason to the assortment of personal and household objects she found among the rubble of their brief settlement.

Lillie shifted uneasily in her slumber as the waters of Crystal Lake lapped beneath her, lulling her with a deceptive peacefulness. When the jetty began to vibrate beneath her, she did not awaken, but incorporated the movement, the heavy tread approaching her, into her dreams. Now she was alone, somehow capsized, and clinging to a spar in the turbulent lake. It was beginning to thunder. That’s why they left, she realized in her dream. They knew this storm was coming.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she jumped awake, letting out a cry. She sat up and looked into the somber eyes of Jordan Hill.

“Jordan,” she cried. “My God, you scared me.”

Jordan crouched down on the jetty beside her as Lillie fumbled to make sure she was properly buttoned and smoothed her unruly hair. She glanced automatically across the lake. The family of campers was still there, still seated around their fire.

“When did you get back?” she asked, awkwardly rising to her feet. “How did you find me?” Her heart had begun to pound. She was not ready for him. She had not yet figured out what to say to him. In truth, she had almost forgotten about him and the danger he represented.

Jordan stood up also. “I stopped by Brenda’s and she said you went off to think, be by yourself. I had a pretty good idea of where to look.”

“Oh,” said Lillie. Despite her sense of danger and disorientation, something in her was oddly touched that he remembered where she liked to hide out. “What time is it?” she asked, looking at her watch. “I have to go.”

Jordan wrapped his fingers around her wrist and detained her. There was no room around him on the narrow jetty. She looked down at the water, panic rising in her throat.

“Never mind what time it is,” he said. “We have to talk.

What is going on, Lillie?” He suddenly noticed the bruise on her face and he grimaced. “Pink did that,” he said. It was not a question.

“Why does everyone assume that?” Lillie asked defensively.

Jordan reached up and gently brushed the hair away from the ugly bruise, as if a cloud of hair might irritate it, might cause her discomfort. Lillie flinched at his touch, which felt hot against her cheek, but she submitted without protest to his ministrations, allowing him to touch her as if she were fragile, even though inside she was steeling herself against him, against his questions.

“Did you find Tyler?” she asked lightly.

“No, Tyler was long gone by the time I arrived. I suspect he’s halfway to New York City or maybe Canada by now.”

Lillie feigned surprise, as if this were news to her. In fact, she had still been at Royce’s house when the call about Tyler’s disappearance came in from the Sentinel. “So, you never saw him at all,” she said carefully.

“No,” he said.

She tried not to betray her relief. He still knew nothing. Now she could suggest that they might be wrong. That he should head back and she would keep him posted on any news. She remembered how grateful she had been when he showed up to help her. Now she only wished that he had never involved himself at all. “Well, that’s a strange coincidence.”

“Not really,” he said. “Pink warned him in plenty of time.”

“Pink!” she protested, but when their eyes met he was looking right through her. She looked away, feeling her face get hot again, this time from shame. And fear. He knew.

“Lillie, don’t try to lie to me. You’re no good at it. You knew it already. That’s where this came from, isn’t it?” he asked, nodding at the bruise on her face. “Why is Pink protecting him?”

Lillie stared stubbornly out at the lake. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I asked you a question. Why is Pink protecting our daughter’s killer?”

“Our daughter?” Lillie bristled. “My, you’re awfully possessive all of a sudden. I don’t remember you being around when she needed you.”

“Don’t bother,” said Jordan. “The guilt trip is not going to put me off. Let me tell you something. I’m convinced now that you were right about Tyler. Now, I don’t know how Pink is involved in all of this. You can tell me or not. But if you think this is an end to it, just because Tyler has bolted, you are dead wrong. I’m going over Royce Ansley’s head. That boy can’t run far enough.”

She looked away from him, her heart leaden inside of her. “I envy you,” she said dully. “It’s so simple for you. It must be a great feeling.”

Jordan looked at her in exasperation. “Lillie, I know you wish I would just disappear. But I’m in this, whether you like it or not. And whether you believe it or not, I want to help you.”

“Help me!” She let out a bitter laugh.

“Yesterday you were glad to have my help,” he reminded her.

Lillie turned and gazed at him. Yes, she thought. And today you have me trapped. If I don’t tell you, you’ll go to the newspapers or the county prosecutor and the whole thing will come out. And if I do tell you…“I didn’t ask you to come here,” she protested weakly.

“My God, are you protecting him too now? What is going on? Does Royce Ansley have something on Pink? I mean, since when is his son allowed to get away with murder? Don’t you think he should be punished? Have you forgotten what happened to Michele?”

“No, of course not,” she snapped.

“Why do I have to tell you this?” he demanded.

She sighed and shook her head, staring at her hands. “You don’t.”

“Well, then, what is it? What?” he pleaded. “Please trust me.”

She studied his face, which was almost innocent with concern. He was seeing the whole thing in black and white, while her whole world had become gray. She had no choice, really, but to tell him. She had unwittingly drawn him into this. And now he would forge ahead, whether she wanted him to or not. All she could do now was to plead for clemency. She looked into his eyes, now feathered with lines of worry and the passage of time, and remembered how once she had believed in him with all her heart. She had been young and she had thought that if you loved someone, and he loved you, then you could trust him. All these years later and she was still learning the hard way how foolish it was to think like that. She would tell him, she knew. But not because she trusted him. It was because she had no other choice.

He met her gaze patiently, and waited.

Finally she spoke. “You’re right,” she said. “Tyler killed her.”

Despite his certainty, Jordan flinched at the words. He took it in for a second, nodding. Then he looked back at Lillie. “You’re shaking,” he said. “Let’s sit down.” She did as he said, settling herself obediently beside him. “How did you find out?” he asked. “What does Pink have to do with all this?”

Lillie took a deep breath. She almost could not bear to say the words. It was like admitting to some terrible flaw, some guilt of her own. “Grayson was there.”

“Grayson!” he cried. His face turned white and she could see the self-control at work in him. His hands gripped the edge of the jetty like a pair of vise clamps. “I don’t believe it. My God…is that why you—”

“No, listen,” she interrupted him. “Let me tell it.” She hurried to explain it all, everything she knew about the killing, and the conspiracy between fathers and sons, her argument with Pink and her confrontation with Royce.

Jordan listened quietly, the muscles in his face flexing angrily, but he did not interrupt her. When she was done he shook his head as if he was trying to shake his words loose. Finally he said, through gritted teeth, “How could he have left her there? His own sister?”

Lillie blushed scarlet, as if it were her fault that he had, but she leapt to her son’s defense. “I told you,” she said. “They were drinking. And she took her blouse off. He had this idea that he was protecting her honor…”

“What? By leaving her face down in the mud? Come on, Lillie. Michele wouldn’t do that, anyway.”

“But she did. He told me!” Lillie cried. “He must have panicked!”

“Bullshit, he’s lying,” said Jordan. “To make himself look good.”

“He would not lie about that,” Lillie said furiously.

“He lied about everything else,” Jordan cried.

“Don’t you dare say that about my son,” Lillie exclaimed. “Don’t you dare. He made a terrible mistake that will haunt him all his life. He should have saved her. He should never have left her. Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think he does?”

BOOK: No Way Home
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