Imperfect Daddy

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Imperfect Daddy Page 5

by Gregg E. Brickman


  "Sounds good to me." I relaxed.

  He drove.

  Whether motivated by coziness or by boredom, Ray began to talk. "I've never told you much about my marriage to Elaine and about the birth of my son."

  "Very little."

  "It's time you knew some of it."

  It sounded ominous. Bending my left knee, I twisted sideways in the seat and watched Ray's face while he talked.

  "I think I told you Elaine and I met at the university in Richmond. She was a business major slumming around the dorm where most of the criminology majors lived. One of her friends was dating a friend of mine. It wasn't long until we got-it-on ourselves. Before I knew what hit me, she was pregnant. We decided to make it legal. We moved in with my folks in Parkview, and I joined the force. "By the time Kerri was born, we had our own house—the one she still lives in with the kids.

  "I loved my daughter and thought I loved Elaine, but the marriage made me feel trapped and manipulated. She'd told me she was using birth control, but then admitted she got pregnant on purpose. I settled in and tried to get the hang of married life anyway. My folks raised me to do the right thing.

  "Then, Buddy Lee showed up and opened an equipment rental place on the highway on the west side of town." Ray kept his eyes on the road.

  Normally, he was loose and relaxed when driving, but now he appeared tense, both hands on the wheel. I saw extra muscle definition and pulsations in his neck.

  "Who, pray tell, is Buddy Lee?"

  "I didn't know it at the time, didn't know it for a couple of years, but Buddy Lee was also from Montgomery, like Elaine. They were lovers in high school . . ."

  "You mean they dated?"

  "No, I mean they were lovers. Sure, they dated, but it went way beyond that. It was public knowledge. She was prom queen. He was king. Like that."

  "What happened?"

  Ray told the story without a flicker of emotion. He'd obviously buried the relationship's bones deep, and now he was digging them up.

  He continued. "Buddy Lee's father was a scum-bag, small time operator with a long sheet, but nothing big until he was convicted of voluntary manslaughter in Virginia. I learned later Alfred, Sr., Big Al, lived with his two sons in a slum on the edge of Montgomery. He followed Buddy Lee to Parkview. I often thought Buddy Lee opened the business in part with his father's ill-gotten gains.

  "When Elaine's parents discovered she was gittin'-it-on with a boy who was socially beneath them and light-in-his-shoes as well. They sent her to college in Virginia. That's when I entered the picture."

  "Did she tell you all of that?"

  "In a manner of speaking. I knew she wasn't a virgin. I didn't care. Her sister, Suzanne, filled in the sordid details after Branden was born.

  "What I didn't know was Elaine and Buddy Lee kept in touch over the years, meeting on occasion, renewing their friendship." His cheeks twitched and his voice sharpened. "After he moved to town—she helped him with the move—they were off and running. I should say they were off and screwing. She helped him get a loan at the bank where she works, found him a broker, and swore to his character. Since she was a police officer's wife, no one questioned her word, and because Buddy Lee isn't very bright, he needed the help. Cozy."

  I was beginning to understand how Ray could still be angry over the breakup after all these years. "Then what happened?"

  He glanced at me. His eyes looked dull, emotionless. "She was pregnant with Branden. I think Buddy Lee knocked her up, although Elaine denies it, always has. Branden doesn't look much like either of us, but he doesn't look like Buddy Lee either. She insisted Lee be his middle name. I agreed. What did I know?"

  "You're sure you fathered Kerri?"

  "Definitely. The resemblance can't be denied."

  I was beginning to understand some of the family dynamics that had confused me for so long. "Where is Buddy Lee now?"

  "I don't know. He and his father went to jail for voluntary manslaughter. After his early release a few years later, he returned to Alabama. The old man served his full sentence before getting out. Donny—his born-again, fundamentalist brother—wormed his way in with the locals, took over the business, and refused to give it back. Besides, the people in town wouldn't patronize an outsider-turned-convict, but a fundamentalist-turned-businessman, that's okay."

  "You can get a paternity test to find out about Branden."

  "I don't reckon it matters much. He thinks he's my kid. I think he's my kid. Therefore, he's my kid. It wouldn't change anything."

  I wondered why he mentioned it if it didn't matter. "You and Elaine split after the boy was born?"

  "Right after. I was the arresting officer and had a hand in sending Buddy Lee and his father off to prison. Buddy Lee threatened her, me, and our kids after the sentencing. I forgave her for the affair, but couldn't forgive her for bringing that kind of thing on my kids."

  "I don't understand."

  "Buddy Lee accused me of framing him because of their relationship."

  "And did you?"

  "Of course not. He claimed he was with Elaine at the time. She denied it, said they were no longer seeing each other. The defense didn't push the issue during the trial. I expect they thought it was a losing battle."

  "That all came out in public?" I was incredulous.

  "Yup, sure did."

  "Ray, how could she still live in the town?"

  "Elaine stuck it out, became a good church-going Baptist, did a lot of community service, that sort of thing. Mostly, people quit talking about it. My leaving town helped put their tongues to rest, too. Back then, I had a reputation for being a tough guy. They thought Elaine had reason."

  "Why did you leave town?" I thought it odd he left his hometown, leaving his former wife with his kids, his parents, and his history.

  "I was wounded during an arrest. I told you about it years ago."

  I closed my eyes and envisioned the white gunshot scar on Ray's back, a part of him I didn't notice anymore. He was hospitalized for a long time while his lung healed and an overwhelming infection resolved. "She hardly came to see me, but I heard she was visiting Buddy Lee in jail. When the docs discharged me from the hospital, I went to my parents' house. Then I resigned from the police force and left town."

  "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

  "When I met you, it was still fresh. I didn't want to deal with it. Now it's an unpleasant fact, but who knows what you'll hear when we get to Parkview tomorrow? Branden knows some of the dirt. Kids at school told him. Kerri hasn't dated much because of it. She says all the guys want is to get in her pants. They make innuendoes about her mother and expect Kerri to shell out."

  "Cruel."

  "It's a small town. To them, Elaine will always be tainted regardless of how impeccable her behavior is now. She should have left town when I did. The kids would be better off."

  Ray had a point. We rode in silence for a long time, at least a hundred miles. He had told me more than ever before, but the story seemed incomplete. Where was Buddy Lee now? What had he left out? I shuddered deep inside. I didn't know what I was getting into.

  I watched him key a number into his cell phone. "This is Stone. Put Lewis on. I'll hold." He tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel.

  The DJ on the country station mentioned the temperature would be dropping into the high sixties overnight. Forecasters expected the cold front moving toward the area to linger for several days, increasing the likelihood of heavy rains. It would be fine for Virginia residents, but intolerable summer weather for a Florida weather wimp. Meanwhile, I was warm. I adjusted the air to a cooler temperature and positioned the vent on the right side of the instrument panel towards me. "Okay?"

  Ray nodded. "Lewis, what do you hear?" he said into the telephone. "No, nothing more." The conversation continued with Ray responding to Lewis in monosyllables. "It's almost seven now. I think we'll find some place along the road around Columbia to spend the night. That'll bring us into Parkview early tomorrow afte
rnoon." He paused. "No, the chief is expecting me. I want to talk to him before I see my kid."

  As Ray listened, he pointed ahead to a Best Western sign visible over the upcoming hill.

  "Looks good," I said. "I'm ready." I squirmed around in the small car to give my hip and leg a break and relieve the cramps caused by staying in one position. I imagined how Ray felt with no room to move or even shift his weight.

  "Lewis," he said into the phone, "I'll give you a call after we have dinner and get settled in a hotel. We need to figure out what the bastard is up to. I don't want any surprises when I get there." He downshifted into fifth gear and pulled into the exit lane, shifting into fourth gear, then third to accommodate the short exit ramp. "Okay, later." He pushed the end button on the cell phone, disconnected the earpiece, and slipped the telephone into his shirt pocket.

  "What's that all about?" I asked.

  "Lewis was giving me an update on Pyle. The statewide manhunt hasn't turned up anything. Can't find the son of a bitch. Lewis contacted the Georgia and Alabama authorities, but they're not sure he'd head back home to Alabama. Too obvious."

  "I thought Dick and Lewis would handle it while you attend to family trouble."

  "It's still my case, Sophi." Ray sounded exasperated. "Just because I have some time off doesn't mean I don't have responsibilities."

  "I've never known you to take your job with you."

  "We've never left town immediately after a double homicide and a rape of a child before."

  "Yes, but—"

  "Damn it, girl," he yelled. "Let it be." He glanced in my direction, eyes glaring with anger and frustration.

  "Don't raise your voice to me, Ray Stone. I'm here to support you. Maybe you should take me to the airport, and I'll get a flight home," I snapped.

  He screeched into the hotel parking lot without saying another word. I didn't expect him to take me to the airport. I waited in the car while he rented a room. Then he moved the car and carried our two small bags inside.

  "Sorry." He reached out to me in the darkened room.

  I stepped back. "What's going on? This isn't like you. I feel like I'm on the outside of something, and I don't know what it is."

  "I have to solve Amber's case, put it to rest—for her sake, for Dick's, and for mine."

  "Why? What does it really have to do with you?"

  "I told you. I can't get it out of my mind. Something like that could have happened to Elaine and my kids. It seems too real, too close."

  "That's not rational. They're a world away."

  "The world is full of bastards like Pyle."

  I moved closer to him, and he slipped his arms around me. I knew Ray was holding back but decided not to pursue it.

  We walked two blocks to a family-style chain restaurant. Neither of us wanted to be bothered with anything fancy, and we needed the exercise. It was warm, but I was accustomed to hotter weather. Ray, on the other hand, had never acclimated to the Florida heat. He strolled beside me, dripping with perspiration.

  During dinner, we both stayed on safe ground relating funny stories from our youth. I felt uneasy about our relationship, feeling as if we had breached some element of honesty. It wasn't as if Ray refused to answer my questions, but he hadn't been forthcoming. Later, as we lay in bed, each of us with our own thoughts, I examined the events of the day. Just when I concluded I was making rancid butter out of my sweet cream, I saw a flash of light and heard a vehicle door close outside our room. It sounded too heavy to be anything but a truck, and I wondered if it was the Ranger.

  12

  On Monday morning, we headed northwest on I-77. The good thing was we didn't have to drive into the sun. The bad thing was the predicted cold front had not arrived. It was hot. We elected to keep the top down anyway. I suspect it was because neither of us wanted to talk much, having said all there was to say the day before.

  I remembered the drive from years ago when he took me to meet his parents. We were engaged at the time and had scheduled the wedding for a few months hence. Ray had a Dodge Viper, and we flew over the route. We had a near miss with the North Carolina Highway Patrol while crossing the border into Virginia. I didn't want to experience a similar adrenaline rush today.

  I glanced at the Honda's digital speedometer. We were going seventy-five. "Ray, you're taking it easy I see."

  "I thought you wanted to enjoy the ride."

  "I do, and I will." I adjusted the seat a bit, settled back, and tried to force myself to relax. I directed my attention to the world outside our roaring red machine.

  The scenery was beautiful. Sometimes, when we went over a hill, all I saw were miles of forest flowing from the road on both sides like an ocean of green. At other times, farms dotted the hillsides. One freshly painted homestead in particular caught my attention. Its bright clean colors flashed in the sun. A pure white silo—something like I'd expect to see in North Dakota—dominated the skyline and dwarfed the white ranch-style house. Dark red outbuildings, sheds, and two-story barns nestled in the shallow valley around the silo, their white trim highlighting varying shapes. It looked like a geometry lesson. Even the fences seemed awash in new paint. I wondered about what might be happening in those well-maintained buildings and imagined the occupants felt happier than I.

  Old, dilapidated buildings fascinated me. People stored hay and machinery in a building with only half the walls and missing chunks from the roof. By the looks of things, the farmers had no choice. The economy wasn't kind to them.

  Ray pulled to the side and put the top up. "Too damned hot," he said, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand.

  I stuck my hand toward the vent. "The cold air feels good." I waved at the scenery. "Sometimes I dream about living in the country."

  "I've thought about that." Ray glanced in my direction. His expression had softened. "I wouldn't want to be far away from civilization though. I like the conveniences of town."

  "Yeah. A gentleman farmer arrangement on the edge of town would be nice." I pointed to a cozy, red brick farmhouse surrounded by a white fence and edged with pink and red flowers. "Something like that. Sunshine would love the space."

  "I think there would be more critters to run down than his poor old heart could handle. He'd just sit next to you on the sofa anyway."

  "He's still good for a chase once in a while." I reached for Ray's telephone. "Connie should be awake by now. Let me call and make sure she collected Sunshine and all his supplies. I'd hate to have him sitting in the house and us not knowing it." I flipped the telephone open. "There are messages."

  "Make your call, then dial in for me, please."

  "Okay." Connie answered on the first ring. "Hey, it's me," I said when I heard her voice.

  "Good morning," she replied. "I'm feeding your dog."

  "How's he behaving?"

  "Fine, as usual. Hang on a second." There was a pause in the conversation. I listened to kibble hitting a bowl—one of Sunshine's favorite sounds—then the clank of ceramic-to-ceramic as Connie set the bowl on her kitchen floor. Connie continued, "Sophia, Kathleen was by to see Amber yesterday. She seems to be attaching very quickly. The child is needy and laps up the attention. I'm afraid Kathleen will have an emotional shock if all her talk about being a foster parent doesn't pan out."

  "Connie, if it does, she'll be in for a shock as well. Amber is troubled. She'll take a lot of special TLC, highly charged emotional stuff that will drain Kathleen's resources."

  "I couldn't agree more. Kathleen's husband visited the girl, too. Dick stayed with her quite a while, and he told me he thought Kathleen would be good for Amber. I agree with you. She desperately wants another child and will go to extremes."

  "I hope not. But, we'll see." We chatted a few minutes longer. I pushed the button to retrieve messages and waited while the preprogrammed code played a tune, then I held the cell phone out to Ray.

  "Go ahead," he said, smiling.

  I put my hand over my other ear to block the road noise and liste
ned, paraphrasing the message as Lewis droned on. "Lewis wants you to call him ASAP. He says troopers found the Ranger abandoned north of Columbia. They've located the kid who owns it. He came out of a Burger King, and his truck was gone."

  I ended the call. "Maybe that's why we were being followed. The thief wanted to change to a different car, and he thought this one would be a good one to heist."

  Ray pursed his lips, then frowned. "They think the Ranger was stolen by Pyle. They think Pyle might be following us or at least traveling in the same direction."

  A shiver ran down my spine. I knew there was more, and Ray was not sharing. "I know you said he isn't very smart, but why would he follow the homicide detective who is trying to find and arrest him?"

  "I didn't tell you everything. I know Alfred Lee Pyle. He's Buddy Lee."

  Buddy Lee. The name connected. Elaine's long-time lover. "And?" I asked, waiting for more.

  "I got a good look at him the other day, and he got a good look at me. We're going to Virginia for two reasons. One, to look into Branden's problems. Two, to make sure my kids and ex-wife are safe. I talked to Elaine again. She said she'd gotten a strange call from Pyle saying he was coming her way. That's why I had to leave Sunday. Remember, Pyle threatened to kill us all when he went to prison."

  "But after he was released from prison, he left the state, and you told me Elaine visited Pyle in prison. Then, he was in jail in Alabama. Why would Pyle still be holding a grudge against you and your family?"

  "Once Pyle was out of prison, Elaine decided not to have anything more to do with him. She came to her senses, realizing he was a bad player. I think Pyle was biding his time, planning his strategy. Then, he was distracted and moved to South Florida, but he still couldn't suppress his urges. We suspect Pyle tossed his marbles over the edge and will try to get them back from Elaine, my kids, and me. The bastard has nothing to lose anymore."

  "Pyle could be caught," I said. "He still has his freedom to lose."

  "Perhaps you're right, but that's not how he's thinkin'. Time will tell."

  "Ray, why didn't you tell me before? I am capable of understanding."

 

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