Since You've Been Gone (25 page)

“Helping to find Todd is the best use of
anyone's
time I can think of,” Doug snapped.

“I didn't mean—” Rebecca began, but Doug was already heading out the door. “Well, for God's sake,” she spluttered. “What's gotten into him?”

“Ice water. Sanctimony.”

“Reformed whore syndrome?”

Clay's eyes widened in pretend shock. “Rebecca, please! Watch what you say. This is a small town. Things can be misunderstood!”

“People often choose to misunderstand if it makes life more interesting. Gee, I liked Doug even when he was a bad boy, but I'm not fond of this holier-than-thou guy.”

“Now you know why we're not good friends anymore. And do I even have to describe that evening at The Gold Key with Lynn and Larry at Christmas? Doug was insistent or I wouldn't have gone. What he really wanted to do was keep an eye on Larry; I think he wanted a little extra muscle with him in case he had trouble keeping Larry under control. Lynn was shooting lasers from her eyes at me and Larry looked like he would gladly have slit my throat. I felt lucky to make it out of the place alive after one warm beer with the merry crowd.”

Rebecca frowned. “Doug said he'd been sitting behind us for fifteen minutes but he didn't make himself known. Why?”

“Absorbed in his coffee before he was off to do more good works?”

“Or listening to us. Listening to what I said about Sonia.”

“Is there any harm in that?”

“I guess not, although I don't like the idea of him eavesdropping, if that's what he was doing. But there's another thing. He said he's been downtown all afternoon.”

“And the crime in that is?”

“Something I didn't tell you earlier. One of the things that gave me my terrible headache.” Clay looked at her alertly as she told him about her encounter with Alvin Tanner and about finding the leather bracelet.

“
What?
” Clay exploded, then lowered his voice when people looked at him. “Good God, Rebecca, what did you do with the bracelet?”

“Took it to Bill. His reaction was strange. He says it smells new and he doesn't think it's Jonnie's at all. It didn't smell new to me, but even if it
is
new, someone put an exact copy of my dead brother's bracelet in my car. I naturally thought of Alvin.”

“But now you think it might have been Doug?”

“He could have seen my car—or rather, my mother's car—parked here. He could have said something to Lynn or even Larry. Vinson's Apothecary is only a couple of blocks away from the volunteer center, Maloney's Garage just a little more.”

“But Rebecca, Larry or Lynn would have had to have the bracelet ready for just such an occasion.”

“And is it so hard to believe they might not have? They both knew about the bracelet, and it would be so easy to make one like it. An opportunity to slip it in the car or my purse would have to come up soon. And neither one of them wants me here, especially Larry.” She paused, scowling. “
Especially
Larry, if he had anything to do with Todd's kidnapping.”

“Where have you been?” Suzanne demanded. “We're not running a hotel here. You could at least show up for meals!”

Rebecca looked closely at her mother. Her eyes were bleary and she stood unnaturally straight, her thin shoulders thrown back in a poor attempt to indicate perfect equilibrium. Apparently her latest try for sobriety had failed, Rebecca thought sadly. “Mother, dinner isn't for an hour.”

“I'm tired. I decided we'd dine early tonight.”

“Well, I'm not a mind reader.”

“Was that supposed to be a joke? This is still
my
house. You are a guest.”

Rebecca felt like flaring back, but the last thing she needed to do was fuel her mother's hostility. “If I've missed dinner, I'll just have a sandwich. It's not a big deal.”

“You haven't missed dinner. It's in fifteen minutes.”

Rebecca hadn't realized Frank stood behind her. He spoke calmly but when she turned to look at him, she saw the anger in his eyes. She knew he loved Suzanne, but nearly 16 years of her nerves and drinking had to be taking a toll on the marriage. She was surprised life in this house moved along as semi-smoothly as it seemed.

Twenty minutes later they sat around the table pretending to enjoy Cornish game hens and wild rice. Suzanne, with a wine bottle placed possessively near her plate, was having trouble removing meat from the tiny hen. Rebecca and Frank pretended not to see her clumsy efforts with knife and fork until one hacking movement sent the carcass onto the floor. Frank calmly laid down his cutlery and looked at his wife.

“I think you should excuse yourself from the table.”

“You think I should do
what?
” Suzanne sizzled.

“You heard me. When you're too drunk to keep your food on your plate, you're not fit company at dinner. Go to your room. I'll have Betty send up something.”

“Go to my room!” Suzanne spluttered. “Who do you think you are? My father? The damned bird is greasy as hell. It slipped.”

“Along with half of your rice, which is now scattered around your plate like the rings of Saturn. And perhaps you haven't noticed that your dinner roll is in your lap.”

Suzanne's gaze flashed to her lap. She picked up the roll and flung it against the wall. Then she scooted back her chair, nearly sending it toppling, and stalked from the room, carrying the bottle of wine with her.

Neither Frank nor Rebecca spoke. Betty immediately dashed in, picked up Suzanne's plate, the remains of the hen and the roll, and returned to the kitchen without a word. At last Frank said, “I'm sorry. I should have ignored her.”

“I think you've ignored her behavior too long,” Rebecca said gently. “She can't go on like this.”

“Am I supposed to have my own wife put away? To humiliate her in this town where she's lived all her life?”

“You wouldn't be putting her into a mental institution, Frank. You'd be sending her to rehab. And I think most people in town already know about her condition. She's already humiliated herself, whether she realizes it or not. Besides, what does it matter if it saves her life?”

Frank smiled at her. “When did you get to be so wise?”

Rebecca was aware of the absolute silence in the kitchen, where she usually heard the murmur of Betty's and Walt's voices. She decided they needed to get off the subject of Suzanne. “I'm not feeling very wise these days. I haven't been able to help at all with Todd.”

“Because of you we know he's still alive.”

“But I have no idea where he is.”

“Someplace dark. But he's being fed and kept warm.”

“Oh, that's immensely helpful, isn't it? We might as well call off the police.” She sighed impatiently. “I should be
more. Joining the air and ground searches, for instance.”

“You're not up to that after your wreck and you're not trained.”

“Not trained? Half the town has been on these searches and they aren't trained.”

“They got some introductory lessons. And frankly, for all their good will, I'm not expecting much to come from the volunteers. It didn't… before.”

“With Jonnie. No, I seemed to be his best hope, and I failed.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Rebecca. This gift of yours doesn't make you omniscient.”

“You never really believed in my ‘gift,'” she said without rancor. “And maybe you were right not to. I haven't been too successful the last couple of times. Perhaps traditional methods are the best.” She continued casually, “I met Sonia Ellis today. I can see why Bill likes her.”

“She's very pretty and very bright. Maybe a bit too bright for her mother to handle.”

“Is Mrs. Ellis lacking in some way?”

“No. She's a fine woman, just very traditional and rather naïve. I think Sonia is much more sophisticated than her mother. Sonia is an enigma—which would make any mother nervous.”

“Tell me about it,” Rebecca said dryly. “I am the quintessential enigma.”

Frank grinned. “Perhaps you could start a club.”

“I'll get to work on it as soon as I return to New Orleans. I'll have to think up a club motto and a password. Something classy but not
too
obscure.” Rebecca paused. “Anyway, Sonia had some things to say about Jean Wright.”

Frank looked mildly interested. “Such as what?”

“That she was home near the time that Todd was taken even though she insists she wasn't. Sonia saw her call in her cat a little before nine.”

“Or so she says now. I was there when she told it the
first time to Bill after Todd was taken. She didn't say anything then about a cat.”

“Maybe she just remembered.”

“How convenient, especially since I know the police have been questioning that lowlife boyfriend of hers.” He sighed. “Oh well, I'm no doubt being far too hard on her because Todd was in her care when he was taken. She probably didn't have a thing to do with what happened, but if Todd dies, she'll have an unbearable burden of guilt to carry around with her, which won't be fair. I just hope she's not still seeing that Messer kid.”

“She isn't—at least not tonight. She said something about going to the library.”

Frank laughed. “Oh, the
library
. What do you want to bet her mother has forbidden her to see Messer and she's really sneaking off to meet him somewhere?”

“She sounded sincere about having to work on a paper. Once Sonia goes away to college, though, Mrs. Ellis can't watch her day and night. If she doesn't see Randy now, she will then.” Rebecca looked over at the mess around her mother's plate. “The women of this family seem incapable of having a dignified meal. What a scene I caused at Dormaine's last night!”

“Livened up the place, that's all.”

“I'm sure that's how Mr. Dormaine put it. He was horrified.”

“He's easily horrified.”

“Frank, I'll pay for the damage to the lawn, the tree, and the dining room. That's not your responsibility.”

Frank smiled. “Dear, I'm an investor in Dormaine's. Peter doesn't want people to know that—he wants to play the big cheese—so it's just a secret among you, me, and Peter. But you don't owe him a penny. Forget about the money and forget about being embarrassed. People are more interested in what's happened to Todd and to Skeeter Dobbs.”

“I suppose it was fairly egocentric of me to believe everyone is thinking about me instead of those disasters. Frank, who do you think murdered Skeeter?”

“Not everyone in this town thought Skeeter was harmless. He had a bad habit of wandering around town poking into things he shouldn't, rummaging through trash, looking in windows, begging, pestering, trying to talk to children. He might have just pushed one of our less patient citizens too far. I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“But what about him seeing someone in the Klein attic on Saturday night?”

“He thought he saw his grandfather every night. He might have just seen a light.”

“But if he saw more than that?”

“We'll never know now.” Frank suddenly rubbed his eyes. “I've lost my appetite. I've also been letting my work slide because of Todd. I should go back to the office for a few hours and catch up. You don't mind, do you?”

“Of course not.” Rebecca remembered her mother saying Frank often returned to the office when he was annoyed with her. She thought he'd long passed the point of annoyance with Suzanne tonight. Maybe he merely wanted to escape the house. “I think I'll take Sean for a walk,” she said. “I've been neglecting him lately.”

After Frank left the table, Betty came in. “I made a fresh apple and raisin pie. Want a piece?”

“I'd love some, but I'll have it in the kitchen with you and Walt.”

Betty looked pleased. “Now that would be a treat for us.”

As usual Walt nearly bolted to his feet as soon as Rebecca walked in. “Walt, relax. It's just me, not Queen Elizabeth.” Rebecca laughed. “I see your pal is keeping you company.”

“He's a fine dog.” Walt sat down and reached under the table to touch Sean, who lay close to Walt's feet. “We understand each other.”

Betty cut large slices of pie and everyone dug in. “Betty, you've outdone yourself,” Rebecca said. “Frank and Mother don't know what they're missing.”

“It didn't sound like either one of them was too interested
in food tonight,” Betty said. “We can't help overhearing right in here.”

Rebecca nodded. “I know. I wish I could do something about the situation with them.”

“Married folks have to work these things out for themselves,” Betty said sagely, as if she'd been married for fifty years instead of two.

After finishing the pie, Rebecca headed up to her room with Sean. When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard strains of “A Whiter Shade of Pale” coming from her mother's room. The song sent chills through her and without thinking, she opened the bedroom door and burst in.

Suzanne lay on the four-poster bed in her blue silk robe, propped up on pillows, smoking. A full glass of red wine sat on a nightstand and a boom box rested on the floor beside her bed.

“Why are you listening to that?” Rebecca asked loudly.

Suzanne raised up angrily. “I'm listening to it because it was your father's and Jonnie's favorite song,” she said with a slight slur to her words. “And how dare you barge in here? Can't I have any privacy?”

Rebecca marched to the boom box and flipped it off. “
Rebecca!
” her mother snapped, but she paid no attention. She opened the cassette case. Her father's old cassette had been playing, not a new compact disc. “What are you doing?”