Low Country Dreams

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Low Country Dreams Page 10

by Lee Tobin McClain


  “What were you doing, Joe?” Yasmin asked.

  “Research,” he said.

  “Research on what?”

  “How to disappear, that’s what,” Miss Vi said.

  “Disappear?” Yasmin didn’t understand. “Like, some kind of magic trick?” She remembered when Josiah had gone through a magic trick phase, but that was back when he was about ten.

  “Disappear as in, get new IDs and anonymous safe-deposit boxes and remove all internet traces of you.”

  “What? Joe!” She grabbed his forearm. “You can never do that. Think of how much I’d miss you. Think of Mom!”

  Josiah looked at her and something flashed in his eyes. He reached out and patted her arm, looking sorrowful. Then he looked away.

  Yasmin’s heart went straight to her throat and stayed there as she stared at her brother. Up until now, while she’d been worried about Joe and what he might have done, there had been a part of her that knew he couldn’t have harmed the man in the car.

  Now, suddenly, the weight of evidence shifted. Because why would Josiah want to disappear? He’d always been eccentric, but he liked people and he loved Safe Haven. He was accepted here, admired because of his smarts, his occasional unusualness tolerated.

  If he wanted to leave Safe Haven, then maybe he’d done something wrong. It hardly seemed possible, but maybe he’d actually struck the blow that had ended up killing the man in the car.

  A deep chill shuddered through Yasmin. She propped her head on her hand and looked sideways at Joe. Was he a killer?

  * * *

  DO IT NOW. Do it!

  Rita drew in a breath, picked up the coffeepot and carried it over to the end of the counter. Her hand shook as she refilled Liam’s coffee cup, to the point where she spilled a little onto the table. “I’ll clean that up,” she murmured, and made her escape.

  She needed to talk to Liam. When he’d come in today and sat by himself, she’d decided she had to approach him.

  Liam was the friendliest of the three O’Dwyer brothers, and the one Rita knew best due to his frequent visits to the diner. Plus, he was in law enforcement, an investigator. He was the most in tune with missing people and crime and foster care, on a professional level.

  He was the one she needed to tell about the possibility of her connection to him and his brothers.

  She took a couple of more breaths and returned to wipe up the coffee she’d spilled. There’s something I need to discuss with you. No. Do you have a minute later today? No.

  She looked at him, opening her mouth to force the words out, and then shut it again. He was staring down the counter to where Yasmin, her brother and Miss Vi from the library were having a serious conversation. Rita looked that way, too, and saw that Yasmin seemed upset. Josiah wore his usual placid expression, and Miss Vi—dear creature that she was—seemed to be in full-on lecture mode.

  “Why don’t you go see if she needs any help?” The words were out of Rita’s mouth before she could stop and assess the wisdom of a waitress giving advice to a grown, professional man.

  A grown man who might be her son, true, but he didn’t know that. “Sorry,” she said. “Not my business.”

  He smiled up at her. “Not a bad idea, though, actually.” He pushed away his blue-plate special half-finished, took another sip of coffee.

  The door of the diner opened and Buck Mulligan, one of the other cops and Rita’s least favorite, came in.

  Liam’s fist tightened on the napkin he was holding, crumpling it. He glared openly as Mulligan walked over to the group at the counter.

  Mulligan brushed back his hair and checked himself in the mirror behind the counter. He thought he was a ladies’ man who appealed to everyone, but the truth was, he was a little too smooth and women saw that, smart women at least.

  He approached the group and spoke, low. Yasmin answered, but she looked even more upset, her smile forced.

  Liam stood. “Sorry I didn’t drink the coffee. Okay with you if I pay at the register?”

  “Sure thing. And I’ll put your coffee in a to-go cup.” She was ashamed of the relief that washed over her. No chance to talk to Liam today; he was in a hurry, involved in other things.

  Another day would go by without Rita doing anything to discover the truth about her past. Norma would strangle her.

  She needed to make progress, and the huge, obvious step was to do research and interviewing and find out whether the O’Dwyer boys were, indeed, hers. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation and she didn’t expect them to embrace her with open arms. After all, if they were hers, she’d walked out on them.

  But she needed to know who she was, and if she’d left three boys as all the evidence suggested, then they needed to know more about their past, as well. It couldn’t have been easy for them to have lost their mother.

  Or been abandoned, she thought, criticizing herself. Had she abandoned her children? What kind of woman did that?

  Have compassion for yourself, Norma kept telling her. Rita wasn’t the kind of person to abandon a child now, and she probably hadn’t been earlier, either. Something terrible must have happened to cause it.

  Although her kids probably wouldn’t see it that way. To a child, abandonment was abandonment.

  Liam walked over to the register, right next to where Yasmin’s group was sitting, and Rita followed from behind the counter to run the register. Beyond her own racing thoughts, she was fascinated by the curious drama playing out among the younger people.

  Liam nodded at Buck, but the man ignored him and went back to whatever he was saying to Yasmin.

  Liam’s mouth tightened and he handed Rita a twenty without looking at her, still watching the conversation unfold. They could hear a few little snatches: need to follow up and a few more questions.

  Yasmin looked stressed, talking past Josiah.

  Rita could read the indecision on Liam’s face. He wanted to get involved. And it was clear as day he had feelings for Yasmin. But it looked like Mulligan had the upper hand somehow.

  Her heart squeezed. She should have known Liam enough to offer advice and counsel, but she’d missed all his growing-up years and she didn’t know what he was like. She had wisdom, but not wisdom he could trust.

  She’d missed out on so much. And worse, so had he.

  How had he been raised? She knew all three brothers had gone into foster care, separately: how had Liam’s family treated him? Had he felt loved? Pain and sorrow wrapped their tentacles around her and tightened.

  She caught a signal from the corner of her eye: Jimmy, frowning at her. It took a minute for her to realize that he was frowning as a boss and not a potential romantic partner. She had customers at the counter.

  She waved an apology at him and hurried over to the counter to pour coffee and take orders.

  And that was one of the perils of being in a romantic relationship, or sort of, with your boss. Her personal life, her worries about her past, were affecting her work, but she didn’t want to ask for lenience. It would seem like she was getting special favors.

  Anyway, the drama unfolding between Liam, Mulligan and Yasmin’s family—who were all arguing, more heatedly now—wasn’t her business. She was just the waitress.

  She wrote down orders and brought ketchup and extra cream, served up burgers and fries, poured refills of sweet tea. All of it automatic, robotic, without her usual banter with the customers. She caught Jimmy frowning at her again.

  But she couldn’t whip herself into anything but rote workmanship, not today. Not given her shameful feeling that she’d evaded, once again, the truth about herself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THREE DAYS LATER, on a Friday afternoon, Liam tossed a stick across Ma Dixie’s yard and watched Rio run for it. He was thankful for the day off, for the cool dankness of the rich bayou air, the way it refrigerated the August heat. The
chickadees’ fee-be, fee-be sounded from the sweet gum and cypress trees, and the earthen, leafy smell tickled his nose.

  “That’s it, the dog needs to use up a little energy before we can work on training.” Pudge LeFrost sat on a wooden chair, tilted back against one of the small cottage’s stilts.

  Rocky ran alongside Rio, basically chasing the stick himself. “Same principle with the boy,” Pudge added, grinning his easy grin. “Fostering kids like we do, we know to keep ’em running all day. A tired kid is a good kid.”

  Liam nodded. “Thanks for taking the time to help us.”

  “Ain’t me who’s got a busy day,” Pudge said. “You’re the one what’s climbing the police department’s career ladder.”

  “Not real fast, these days.” Liam looked around at the rich, green world and his shoulders loosened. Here, he could be himself.

  He hadn’t grown up at the cabin belonging to Ma Dixie and now to Pudge as well, but he’d spent a lot of time here. His brother Sean was the one Ma Dixie had fostered, whereas Liam had grown up with a different family in the town of Safe Haven. But Ma’s huge heart had had space for Sean’s brothers, and she’d offered an open invitation for them to visit as often as they wanted. As a result, he and Cash had spent a lot of time paddling canoes in and out of the bayou, making sure they hid from Ma the fact that they were smoking cigarettes or sneaking a few beers.

  He still felt welcomed by that open invitation, which was why he’d thought of bringing Rocky and Rio out here in advance of Ma’s weekly Friday night supper. Pudge was a genius with animals—and kids—and if anyone could tame down Rio’s wildness without breaking his spirit, it was Pudge.

  He’d hesitated a bit before inviting Yasmin to join him and Rocky and Rio. Seeing Buck at her house the other night had kicked up all his old jealousies. But, he’d reminded himself, she couldn’t help it that Buck was the one investigating the stranger’s death.

  Now, looking back through the window, he saw Yasmin and Ma talking comfortably, standing together over the counter, chopping something. The cabin was small and cooled only with fans and swamp coolers. Yasmin had grown up in so much more affluent circumstances; he liked that she was able to spend time at Ma’s humble place and genuinely enjoy herself.

  “Okay, boys, time to work.” Pudge heaved himself upright—no easy feat, considering that he weighed more than three hundred pounds—and held up a small bag that had been tucked into the pocket of his massive overalls. “This here’s the key to good training.”

  “What is it?” Rocky asked.

  Instead of answering, Pudge held the bag out to the boy. “Smell it.”

  Rocky did, and then made a show of falling down on the ground and rolling around, gagging. “Ugh! That’s foul! What is that?”

  “Gator,” Pudge said with equanimity. “Dogs like meat, and there ain’t nothing tastes so good to them as gator.”

  He proceeded to teach them how to make Rio sit, stay and come when called. It was slow going; Rio was good-natured but almost completely without discipline. “What do you think?” Liam asked after about twenty minutes, feeling ashamed of his dog. “Is he a lost cause?”

  “No animal’s a lost cause.” Pudge stuck a wad of chewing tobacco into his mouth. “Every dog learns at a different pace. If he’s had a bad experience, he’s not going to learn as fast. Same if he’s scared.”

  He produced another bag of treats. “Tell you what. Let’s run through each of his commands again and try to have him succeed once. As soon as he does, we’ll give him a break.”

  Rocky did it, calling out commands to Rio in the firm voice Pudge had suggested. Finally, Rio went through the sequence: sit-stay-come.

  “And, that’s a wrap,” Pudge said, rubbing Rio behind the ears. “Go throw a couple of sticks into the water, boy. Let the dog chase it. He’ll love that.”

  As the two ran away, both Liam and Pudge watched them. “Something’s happened to that boy,” Pudge remarked. “He’s in pain.”

  Liam stared at the man. “What do you mean? Physical pain?”

  “No. Pain right here.” Pudge gave his chest a double pat. “I can see it in his eyes. Seen it a lot, in the kids Ma fosters.” Then he looked up and his face broke into a wide smile. “Well, would you look what popped up out of the swamp.”

  Liam looked in the direction Pudge was pointing. There, coming along the road, was a silver sports car, top down.

  His brother Cash. The star of the show had made it after all.

  Spectacularly successful, Cash had an easy personality and had always been the best-looking of the three O’Dwyer brothers. There’d even been a time when Liam had thought Yasmin preferred Cash to him.

  That could happen again, since Liam and Yasmin weren’t together. Cash wouldn’t have horned in on Liam outright, but an ex was fair game.

  And then Liam got a grip on himself. Jealousy and competition were something he needed to grow out of. He was genuinely proud of his brother’s success. And thankful for his generosity, which had made a huge difference to Liam at an important time.

  Cash bypassed the house and came around to where Pudge and Liam were. He bent down to shake Pudge’s hand, then stood and held out an arm. “Little brother,” he said, and they man-hugged. “You chief yet?”

  “No.” His answer was sharper than it had been with Pudge, but come on. Everyone kept asking him about the painful subject of his advancement—or lack thereof—at the police station. It got old.

  Cash shrugged. “Being at the top can be lonely,” he said. “Being one of the players instead of the manager can be a really good thing.”

  Both Pudge and Liam stared at Cash, clad in impeccably designed dress pants and a starched white shirt, sleeves neatly folded up, shoes that even Liam could tell were expensive leather, not made for bayou walking.

  “Something you want to tell us?” Pudge asked.

  “Like that you’ve killed off my real brother and taken over his body?” Liam joked. “You’ve always been about success.”

  Cash shrugged. “It gets old,” he said, and then got very focused on his phone. An action that was probably fake, because cell reception was terrible out here.

  It pulled Liam right out of his own concerns. Cash had a ton of money, a revolving door of gorgeous women and an ocean’s worth of pressure on him. And he’d grown up the same as Liam. Their abusive father and lost mother might have even affected him more, because he was old enough to remember more of the bad things.

  Liam punched Cash lightly in the arm. “You need anything, you know I’ve got your back, right?”

  “Thanks. I’m fine.”

  When they went inside to eat, some kind of conspiracy between Pudge and Ma and Cash made Liam end up sitting right next to Yasmin, so close their shoulders touched at the small wooden table. There was seafood gumbo, and pulled pork, with sides of collards and corn bread and baked mac and cheese. After eating until they were stuffed, they all somehow found room for Ma’s peach cobbler. Cash told stories of his high-living business deals that had Rocky and Ma’s foster son wide-eyed, and Ma and Pudge shaking their heads.

  Liam watched Yasmin as she dug into the food and laughed at all the right places. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her face, which gleamingly revealed how little makeup she wore. She’d pulled her long curls back into a ponytail, with some kind of braid going along one side. It made her look more like she had in school, young and innocent. For once, the tension had left her shoulders and her eyes were clear.

  He was glad he’d brought her. Ma’s place was good for the soul. Yasmin carried too much and deserved a chance to kick back and relax with good people.

  Only problem was, he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself, especially when she threw her head back, laughing at one of Pudge’s silly jokes. The long column of her throat seemed to beg to be kissed. When she pulled her shirt away from he
r chest and stomach, flapping it a little for air, he wanted to fan her, make her comfortable.

  Make her happy.

  And those were thoughts he didn’t need to be having. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and she’d dumped him for someone else, someone who was still interested if Liam could believe the evidence of his own eyes. He sucked in bayou-warm air and ate some more cobbler, trying to find another focus for his thoughts.

  Ma Dixie gave it to him. “’Bout time to be thinking about school, ain’t it?” She looked from her foster son to Rocky. “What grade are you in, son? My Dustin, here, is going into sixth.” She ruffled Dustin’s hair.

  And that right there was what made Ma a great foster parent. Every kid who lived here, whether for three weeks or three years, was considered wholly hers.

  “When does school start?” Cash asked.

  “Starts two weeks from Monday,” Pudge said. “These boys better enjoy their last couple weeks of freedom.”

  “Dustin’s sisters, Desiree and DeeDee, they’re already doing cross-country camp,” Ma added. “Those girls are fast as the wind.”

  “You think you’ll get involved in any sports?” Liam asked Rocky.

  Rocky’s lower lip stuck out, and his body went rigid. “I ain’t goin’ to school here.”

  Yasmin cleared her throat. “He’ll be starting seventh grade. What’s the school like here, Dustin?”

  “I ain’t goin’,” Rocky said, louder.

  Dustin ignored him and shrugged. “It’s school. But it’s not so bad. C’mon,” he added, looking at Rocky, “let’s get fishing poles and take the canoe out.”

  Rocky seemed to debate whether to stay and argue with the adults or go be a kid. Being a kid won. He stood, and both boys practically ran toward the back door.

  “Don’t you want to stay and eat your...” Yasmin looked at the two boys’ already-empty plates. “Oh.”

  “Boys!” Pudge said, and there was an authority in his usually good-natured voice that made them stop instantly and turn back. “What do you say to Ma?”

 

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