Blue Ridge Hideaway

by Cynthia Thomason

  “How could he? He’s got Dorie, and she’s the nicest lady I know.”

  Bret took a deep breath and swallowed. “Sure, she’s nice. But they were raised without a dad around. And when Jack was about your age, his mom left. Dorie did all she could, but Jack grew up a little too fast and did some things he shouldn’t have.”

  “You mean he’s a delinquent?”

  “Well, sort of, yeah. He’s been in trouble with the police a few times.”

  “So that’s why you made them go? Because Jack got in trouble that way? You could have helped him!”

  “No, I couldn’t. I gave up that life when I got shot, remember? Now my life is all about you and this place. But I still know what a kid like Jack needs. He has to face up to what he’s done and hopefully come out the better for it.”

  “What did he do that was so bad?”

  There was time enough for Luke to hear the true answer, so Bret avoided giving it to him right now. Besides, there was still some doubt about Jack’s crime, right? “I think mostly minor things, but he has to pay for hurting people. You understand that, Luke.”

  “And Dorie took him back to where he did that stuff?”

  “That’s right.” Bret was as miserable as he could ever remember being. But he was sure of one thing. Dorie had told him the truth. She was returning Jack to Broad Creek.

  “Will Dorie come back here after she gets Jack home?”

  Bret gave his son a little extra squeeze. Dorie had become such a vital part of their lives in such a short time. “I don’t know. But I’m thinking we shouldn’t count on it.”

  Luke looked up at him with moisture shining in his eyes. “Doesn’t that make you sad?”

  “Oh, yeah. It makes me plenty sad,” Bret said. “But I’m just glad I have you to cheer me up. We’ll do that for each other, okay, partner?”

  Luke nodded and rested his head on Bret’s shoulder just about where Dorie used to rest her head. Bret felt a catch of breath in his throat. She’d been gone three hours. He still hadn’t made the phone call that would put the police on her trail. He didn’t need to. In spite of what she must believe was his ultimate betrayal, he knew she would keep her word. She was that kind of woman.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I’VE ALREADY ASKED for a medical evaluation from our firm’s doctor,” Eric Henderson said.

  The lawyer had been waiting for Dorie and Jack at the prison when they’d arrived around 8:00 p.m. that night. Dorie had called him when they were about an hour away and he’d driven down from Wilmington. Now they were seated in the visitor’s room, Jack on one side of the table and Dorie and Eric on the other. Two guards stood outside the door when only one was customary. Obviously the prison authorities were taking precautions to assure that Jack wouldn’t run again.

  “Why did you order a medical evaluation?” Dorie asked the attorney. “Jack is fine.”

  “No, he’s not,” Eric said. “Trust me on this, Dorinda. We need our own personal physician to come in and check him out. Jack has enough scratches and bruises to prove that his ordeal yesterday did some real damage.” He gave Dorie an intense stare. “And that’s not even taking into account the emotional scars.”

  “I don’t have any emotional...”

  “Stop right there, Jack,” Eric said. “You’re paying me to handle this for you. Let me do my job. Unless you want ten years for escape added on to whatever sentence you may get.” He switched his stare from brother to sister. “Our one chance of mitigating this escape is to plead that Jack was hit so hard by that truck, he was dazed. He didn’t know what he was doing and just wandered off into the woods. Hours later he realized what he’d done and panicked.”

  “And that’s why he came to me?” Dorie said, appreciating the lawyer’s skills even if Eric was bending the truth a bit.

  “Exactly. Jack is still a teenager. It’s logical he would go to the only source of support he’s known....” He leveled a knowing look at Dorie. “Even though your mothering talents were sorely lacking during his formative years. Remember? We already established that fact.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jack said. “Dorie has been great to me. She’s been better than my real mother was or ever would have been.”

  Dorie tried to calm him. Once they’d gotten on the road, Jack had settled down and accepted that a return to Broad Creek was his only option. “It’s okay, Jack,” she said. “This is all part of Mr. Henderson’s strategy. I’ve agreed to downplay my role in your upbringing.”

  “No way,” Jack insisted. “I’m not going to let you lie about all you’ve done for me. You’ll end up looking bad to the jury, and I don’t want that.”

  “You’d better start listening, kid,” Eric said. “Your sister knows this is what we have to do to get you a plea deal. You’ve got to come across as abandoned and pathetic. We need the jury’s sympathy if we’re going to get a lighter sentence.”

  Jack looked as if he was going to argue, but Dorie just held up her hand. “I’ve agreed to this, Jack, and I’m okay with it. What do I care what that jury thinks of me as long as you get out of this place sooner.”

  He bit his bottom lip and stared at the tabletop.

  Eric relaxed. “All right, then. I’ll speak to the warden one more time, tell him we want our doctor to take a look at Jack. The warden conceded that the accident could have left you confused and might even have caused a temporary loss of memory. And, lucky for us, the truck driver caught a glimpse of you when he crashed the fence. He thought he’d run over you. So, for now, because you came back on your own, you can return to your cell block with no further punishment at this time.” Eric grinned. “Although I doubt you’ll be allowed on grounds maintenance again.”

  Dorie stood. “I can’t thank you enough, Eric,” she said. “I can only imagine the trouble Jack would have been in without your influence.”

  “It’s what you’re paying me for, Dorinda. Oh, and by the way, I’ve gotten a trial date. Two weeks from Monday we have jury selection if we haven’t cut a deal with the District Attorney before then.”

  “Did you hear that, Jack?” Dorie said. “Only two more weeks until the trial.”

  The guard opened the door at Eric’s signal and motioned for Jack to leave the room. “I’ll come see you tomorrow,” Dorie said. “Just try to rest.” She watched until Jack was no longer visible.

  Eric took Dorie’s elbow. “I’ll walk you out.” He pulled back the cuff on his oxford shirt and glanced at his watch. He was dressed casually in a plain blue shirt and perfectly creased chinos that probably cost more than Dorie made in a week waiting tables. Eric made a good first impression. She hoped that carried over to a jury.

  “It’s early still,” he said. “Only nine o’clock.”

  “I appreciate you coming here on a Friday night, Eric. I’m sure you had better things to do. Maybe you can catch up with your plans and save some of the evening.”

  He pushed a shock of blond hair off his forehead. She noticed his hair was a perfect length, just long enough to brush his collar, the style handsomely boyish. All in all, there was a sense of competent success about him, one she’d noticed as well in their only phone conversation.

  “Actually I don’t have any plans,” he said. “I was thinking maybe you and I might go out for a drink.”

  She stared up at him, uncertain of what he was suggesting. A date? More strategizing? She was dressed in the jeans and the T-shirt she’d put on that morning. She hadn’t combed her hair or put on makeup. She felt grimy, head to toe after driving for hours. Even her teeth were gritty. Surely he wasn’t coming on to her.

  “Or coffee,” he said when she didn’t respond. “If you’d rather.”

  “Do you want to discuss the case more?” she asked.

  “Sure, if you’d like,” he said. “And maybe oth
er topics. Let’s just see where this leads.”

  Oh, no. This was not going to happen. But she had to decline without offending him. “Well, thanks, but I’m exhausted to tell you the truth. This day has been, well, I don’t have to tell you. Plus, my dog has been in the truck for over thirty minutes now.”

  “I’m sure your dog is fine. It’s a cool night. Why don’t you take him home and meet me someplace?”

  “That’s another thing...” Dorie scrambled for her next excuse. “I haven’t seen my house in a long time. I have a lot to catch up on.”

  He smiled in a professional, practiced way. “Okay, I understand. But don’t think I won’t ask again.”

  “Some other time maybe,” she said, heading toward her truck.

  She walked briskly across the prison parking lot, keeping her gaze focused on King’s nose sniffing the air outside the passenger window. She didn’t even turn around when she opened her driver’s side door and slid inside. How could she tell this attorney her mind was three hundred miles away in the mountains of western Carolina? If she wanted to have coffee with anyone, it would be with Bret, and that wasn’t likely to happen.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Dorie sat outside with her brother. As was the custom, she was on one side of an aluminum picnic table, and he was on the other. His fine brown hair was mussed, falling into his eyes. He looked so innocent. How could anyone think this boy had killed someone? A guard stood nearby, just out of hearing distance.

  “How did you sleep last night?” she asked, though Jack’s red-rimmed eyes had already given her the answer.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Kept thinking about stuff.”

  “I hope you didn’t worry about backlash from your escape. I think Henderson has covered you on that one.”

  “No, I didn’t worry about that, although when sentencing comes down, I’m sure my little absence will be taken into consideration.”

  Dorie figured it would be. “Look, Jack, now that we have a trial date this will all be over soon. We’ll know your future.”

  “Ha. I know it now, Dorie.” He seemed to be taking in every detail of the yard. “I’m looking at my future,” he said.

  “Things can change, Jack. The truth about that night can still come out. Henderson can get the jury to sympathize with you because of your background. We have cards we can play.”

  “That’s another thing,” he said. “I don’t want you lying about what you did for me growing up. You were always there for me.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be careful about what I say and how I say it. I know what’s at stake for you, and I’m willing to let the jury think you were on your own much of the time. After all, it’s true what Henderson says. Our mother did leave us, and...”

  “But you didn’t!” he said. “Anything bad that’s ever happened to me is because I screwed up. Not you. I won’t let you take any of the blame.”

  She wished she could take his hand, but the guard was watching every move. Jack seemed more upset than usual. “Calm down, Jack,” she said. “It will be all right. Henderson hasn’t even talked to Vince and Tony yet. He might get them to recant their testimony and tell the truth about who fired the gun that night. We’ve got two weeks. Let’s give him the chance to make those guys do what they should have done weeks ago.”

  Jack’s voice was so low Dorie had to lean across the table to hear him. “They won’t change their stories,” he said.

  “They might. I have a hunch Henderson can be pretty persuasive.”

  “I can’t do this any longer, Dor.”

  His voice was so pained. He seemed so fragile. “Do what, Jack? What can’t you do any longer?”

  “Vince and Tony won’t change their testimony because they aren’t lying.”

  His words were like a physical blow to her stomach. She almost doubled over, but flattened her palms against the tabletop to steady herself. “What did you say?”

  “I did it, Dorie. I shot the guy.”

  She blinked hard trying to keep his face in focus. She had to have misunderstood. But his features were rigid. “No, Jack. You’re confused. Maybe the truck accident really did injure you. You didn’t shoot anybody.”

  His head nodded, just a slight up and down motion that challenged everything she’d ever believed about him.

  “The clerk was like a crazy man,” he said. “He came over the counter swinging that bat. Vince just stood there like he was dumb or something. He didn’t move.

  “I yelled at him, told him to duck. He didn’t. He just started shaking. I grabbed the gun from Vince’s belt, hollered at the clerk to stop. He landed in front of us. Vince didn’t even back up. He just stood there staring.”

  Blood rushed into Dorie’s head and pounded in her ears. Of all the confessions she could have heard about this night, this was the last one she’d expected. She felt as if her heart was being ripped in two. The words didn’t seem to come from her throat when she said, “You have to stop talking, Jack. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I have to tell it, Dorie. It’s killing me. I only meant to shoot the bat, make the guy drop it, you know like they do in the movies. Then I figured we’d run. But my hand was shaking so bad. I’d never fired a gun before. I didn’t even aim, Dorie. I just pulled the trigger. The guy fell back against the counter, clutching his chest.”

  Dorie’s head dropped into her two hands. “Oh, Jack...”

  “The guy would have killed Vince,” Jack said. “And everybody would have called him a hero for killing the punk kid who was robbing him. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Dorie pushed herself up from the table. Her legs were trembling so violently she didn’t think she’d be able to climb over the bench. For a moment she thought she might throw up. She had to get out of the yard, away from the ugly truth she’d just heard. “I...I have to go, Jack,” she said.

  He looked up at her, his eyes swollen, his cheeks puffy and red. He could have been eight years old again, this boy she had loved with all her heart. But he wasn’t that boy. He had done a terrible thing and he had lied to her. At the moment she didn’t believe she’d ever really known him.

  “What’s going to happen now?” he asked her.

  She tried to think rationally, but her thoughts were in a jumble. She hardly trusted herself to speak. “I don’t know. We’ll tell Eric. We’ll...” She couldn’t go on. Her throat was closing with burning tears. For once she didn’t have the answer. She turned and walked away. The last thing she heard was the guard, calling her brother back inside.

  * * *

  DORIE UNLOCKED HER truck and climbed behind the wheel. She tried to put the key in the ignition. After two unsuccessful attempts, she slammed her hand against the steering wheel. And there, in the prison parking lot, she finally let the tears fall. She was crying out her disappointment in Jack, her fear for his future, her guilt over not having all the answers. And she was crying because she desperately missed the family she’d come to care for so much in the past two weeks of her life. After a few minutes, she tried the key again and the trusty truck started. “You’ll be okay, Dorie,” she said.

  But she wouldn’t be okay. She’d lost everything that was important to her. Jack would be in prison for years. Bret had been right about him. She couldn’t go back to The Crooked Spruce, and she didn’t want to go home. But she didn’t have anywhere else to go.

  She pulled out of the lot and headed toward Winston Beach and the cottage she’d slept in last night for the first time in two weeks. The tidy little home she’d taken care of for years had changed, too. It seemed small and lonely. Hopeless.

  Nothing will ever be like the days on Hickory Mountain again.

  A half hour later she pulled into her driveway. In the daylight she realized how neglected her cottage seemed. Maybe in a da
y or two, she could turn her attention away from what she had lost and think about what she still had. King. Hopefully a job soon. This house.

  The grass was long. She’d have to mow it. All the blinds were still drawn, a safety precaution she’d taken when she left to find Clancy. She’d only planned to be gone overnight. How long ago that trip to the mountains seemed now. How desperate she’d been to get her money from Clancy. How hopeful she’d been that she would be able to get Jack out of jail. But that was when she’d believed in him.

  She got out of the truck and went in the front door. King greeted her with tailing wagging and tongue hanging out. She scratched the top of his head before going into the kitchen to get a drink. Her refrigerator needed a good cleaning.

  She got a Coke for herself and filled the water bowl for King. Through the kitchen window she saw her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Eisenberg waved. “You’re home!” she called. Dorie waved back. “I’ve watched the house for you. And I got your mail like you asked me to when you called.”

  “Thanks. I’ll pick it up later,” Dorie said and went into the living room to drink her soda. King jumped onto the sofa beside her. She absently stroked his silky ears.

  This little house had always seemed like her refuge, and it should have this morning. Physically her belongings were just as she’d left them. Her magazines were still stacked neatly on the coffee table. The wooden clock ticked comfortingly on the wall over the television. Before she left to find Clancy, she’d made certain that Jack’s room was straightened up, his bed made and his clothes put away. She’d wanted the room to be perfect for him when he got home.

  She wiped another tear from under her eye though she hadn’t thought she’d be able to cry anymore today. But thinking of Jack again made her realize that days, maybe weeks would pass before her personal pain subsided. Her brother had lied to her. He’d let her believe in his innocence, that he was worth fighting for one more time. She’d given up so much. Her youth. An education, her business. And especially that man on Hickory Mountain who might have loved her as much as she loved him. Now she’d never know.