What You See

by Ann Mullen

  A lonely feeling crept over me. I didn’t want them to leave, but I refused to be selfish by asking them to stay.

  As Cole and Billy walked out the front door, Cole turned to me and whispered, “I’ll be back in an hour if that’s all right with you.”

  That was more than okay with me! Regardless of all the sadness and guilt I’d been through in the last two weeks, I still had that burning desire to be close to him again. But I made myself do the right thing.

  “I’d love it,” I whispered. “I just don’t think tonight would be a good night.” I looked over at the bedroom window. “I think Mom’s going to need me tonight. She’s having a hard time.”

  He brought his face close to mine, looked deep into my eyes and touched my soul. How could I not love this man? He’s everything a girl could possibly want—he’s a nice person... and good-looking.

  “I understand,” Cole said. “I’ll come by in the morning to see if you need anything.” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss.

  My legs began to quiver and my insides felt like mush, until Billy spoke and broke the spell.

  Halfway down the porch steps, he blurted out, “Yeah, and I’ll come by early in the morning to see if we can do something about this grass. It needs to be cut. This time of year, you have to watch out for snakes.”

  “What do you mean, snakes?” I shrieked.

  “I mean, the kind you want to avoid,” he snickered. “There’re two things you need to remember about snakes: if the snake is black, you’re safe; if it’s red like me, run fast!” He turned and walked out to his truck, laughing the whole way. Like my mother would say... this man is going to be the death of me, yet.

  Cole tried to calm me. “As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. The minute it gets warm around here, the snakes come out. As long as you’re cautious and aware of them, you’ll be fine. You need to watch where you walk. Do you know how to use your dad’s shotgun?”

  “I didn’t know he had one,” I replied. “I know he has a bunch of rifles and stuff, but I never paid much attention.” I’d been too busy trying to conceal that shiny little piece of steel I kept in my handbag, I thought to myself. If I told Cole I was carrying a concealed weapon in my purse, without a permit, would he arrest me? My paranoia was out of control and running wild, again.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to use your dad’s shotgun. It’s easy. You can handle it,” he assured me.

  That night turned out to be uneventful. Mom and Athena were sleeping on Mom’s bed when I went upstairs. I didn’t realize how tired I was, until I crawled into bed. My whole body ached and my brain felt like cheese.

  Is this the way life is in the mountains? When we moved here, I thought it would be peaceful and quiet—not intense and emotional. I thought we were going to slow down... relax... enjoy life.

  What happened?

  Chapter 16

  Saturday morning I awoke to the sound of a lawnmower. I rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand beside my bed. Seven o’clock! Don’t these people ever sleep late? I forced myself out of bed and walked over to the window. Billy’s truck was parked on the side of the house along with Cole’s Jeep. Cole was wrestling a riding lawnmower off a trailer attached to his Jeep, and Billy was cutting grass with another one. I slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and followed the noise I heard coming from the kitchen. Mom was rustling around in the cabinet, the aroma of coffee permeating the air.

  “Good-morning,” she said. “They’re hard at it first thing.”

  “I heard,” I said, motioning to the sound of the lawnmower. I walked to the utility room and opened the door. I stood there marveling at how lucky we were to have such nice fellows as our friends. Cole caught sight of me and waved. My heart did a flip-flop. This was the first time that I had a relationship with a guy who was also a friend. It was a good feeling.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee, kissed Mom on the cheek, and said I was going upstairs to do some work. I thought I’d use this time to read over the Carrolton file again. Once the guys finished cutting grass, Mom assured me she’d have breakfast ready for us. By then, I might come up with more questions for Billy. I needed to contribute something. He’d been there for me ever since the day I met him, and I’d done nothing for him. He’d done so much for me, and never asked anything in return... and all I did was take. It was time for me to do my share. I needed to return the friendship and support.

  I drank my coffee and tried to wash down another guilt attack. Sitting on the bed, I thumbed through what had become a briefcase stuffed with a collection of police reports, photos, notes, and various pieces of paper that one of us had scribbled some tidbit. I’d also begun keeping what I would call an activities book—a small composition book in which I’d recorded times and dates of things we did and the people we’d talked to. I started doing this the day Billy called me into his office to take notes during his interview with the Carroltons. After Rebecca Miller killed her husband, I got serious about recording every specific detail of our actions. I felt it was imperative to be able to account for our whereabouts at any given time. As long as we were together, we could back each other up, something I’ve found to be important in this line of work. Cover your butt! The minute the police learned that there was a private detective involved, their hair stood on end, and they started to foam at the mouth. Immediately, they assume the P.I. is the one at fault. They’re like rabid dogs, except for Cole—he’s only semi-rabid.

  Among the piles of paperwork, I found two new manila file folders. One was labeled, Rose Hudgins/waitress, and the other labeled, Tom Dorey/gas station attendant. This must’ve been what he was doing on his computer before we left work Friday—gathering more information on them. I was curious to know if he’d stumbled onto anything new. Any additional detail could spark my imagination. Also, I wanted to see if he’d made any notations about my silly ideas. I know he thought I was way off base, but I just had this strange feeling.

  Most of the information in Rose’s file was reports that I’d already seen. Then I came across a copy of a birth certificate stapled to a lone sheet of paper. The paper contained general data about

  Rose: address; where she went to school, etc., but the birth certificate was in the name of Patrick Jason Teale. Who was this guy? Why would a birth certificate be attached to her file, unless they were related? Could that be the answer? I needed to ask Billy about this.

  I went downstairs and out into the front yard. The air had the smell of fresh cut grass. Even though it was barely eight o’clock, the sun was out in all its glory. Next weekend was the 4th of July, a holiday that my family always celebrated together. Claire would bring the kids and that man to whom she was married. Most of the time, Jack would show up alone. I wondered about Jack sometimes. He seldom had a girl with him, and never the same one twice. What about this 4th of July? Normally, a cookout at Mom and Dad’s on Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and Labor Day was pretty much a set thing. Thanksgiving and Christmas were a must. You didn’t dare miss either one of those. But things were different now.

  The guys had just finished cutting the grass as I walked down the steps. They came head-to-head in front of me, and shut down their mowers. Beads of sweat lined the foreheads on both of them. It must’ve been from the heat. How much sweat could you work up on a riding lawnmower?

  “Working up a sweat over me?” I joked.

  “Ha… ha,” Billy sneered.

  “Mom’s cooking breakfast,” I said.

  “Great!” Cole replied. “I could use some food.”

  I walked up to Billy and said, “I was going over the Carrolton file, and came across a birth certificate for Patrick Jason Teale. Who is he, and what has he got to do with Rose Hudgins?”

  Billy climbed off of his lawnmower, pulled me aside and said, “Have you forgotten that your boyfriend’s a cop?” The look in his eyes convinced me he was serious. “Never talk about our investigations in front of him, okay? It’s his duty to ask questions.
What we do is none of his business, unless it becomes his business. Do you get my drift?”

  Yes, I think I do. My new career choice had been to take up with a man who snoops into people’s private lives for a living, and at the same time, I fell for his childhood buddy, who just so happens to be a cop. It was going to be a bumpy ride.

  Cole instantly knew what we were talking about. “Billy, I told you the CPD was handling this case. Why are you getting in the middle of it?”

  Billy and I looked at each other. I didn’t say a word.

  “Obviously, they haven’t gotten any closer to finding the girl, otherwise, why would the parents hire me?” He stared at Cole. “From the looks of things, it was a smart move on their part. The CPD hasn’t come up with anything, and it’s been six months.”

  “Back down on this one, Billy,” Cole warned. “There’s stuff going on here you don’t know about.”

  “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “I can’t do that and you know it.”

  “Yeah... right. You can do anything you want.”

  “It’s not our case. It belongs to Charlottesville. They don’t seem to have a need for our services, but if they do, I’ll give you anything I can. Until then, just leave it alone.”

  “I’m not going to do that. Why do you even suggest it?”

  Trying to spearhead what was developing into another argument between the two of them, I stepped in the middle. “Cool it, guys. Mom has breakfast ready, so let’s go eat. I don’t want her to hear the two of you at it again.” I needed to talk to Billy, but not in front of Cole. “Cole, would you give us a few minutes? I have something to discuss with Billy, and under the circumstances, I think it’d be best if you weren’t here.”

  “Fine,” he retorted. “I’ll tell your mom that you’ll be right in.” He took out his bandanna and wiped his face as he walked into the house.

  I flashed Billy one of my mean looks and said, “Why can’t you guys get along and work together? Why do you always have to be fighting?”

  “O-si-yo, is anyone home?” he asked as he tapped my head. “You just don’t understand, do you?”

  “Understand what?”

  “Cops hate us. Not me in particular, but us in general. When all else fails, we come in and clean up their mess. They don’t like it. Our involvement really sets their blood on fire.”

  “Whatever you say,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Listen,” I huddled up to him, “I wanted to talk to you about this birth certificate. What’s the deal here? Who is this guy Patrick Jason Teale?”

  “He’s Rose Hudgins’ adopted brother. It seems after Rose was born, the mama couldn’t, or wouldn’t have more babies. A couple of years later they adopted him. He was two at the time. His father was a psycho—high on drugs all the time. He beat his wife to death with a hammer, and then killed himself with a Colt 45. One shot to the head. It wasn’t pretty, and you know Patrick Jason must’ve seen it, because when the police arrived, he was sitting in the middle of the floor between them.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?” I asked.

  “I did some research. It’s amazing what you can find out on the Internet. It’s a wealth of information.”

  “Where did you get a copy of his birth certificate?”

  “It was simple. Once I uncovered the fact that he was adopted, it was just a matter of search and find. I went back to the year of his adoption and searched the newspapers. Sure enough, there was a write up on his parent’s death, and a small picture of him in the article—poor kid.”

  “What made you decide to check him out?”

  “It’s my job to check everything out, and if I remember correctly, you’re the one who wanted me to dig deeper into Rose Hudgins’ past. It’s interesting, don’t you think?”

  “I think we should go pay her a visit, and have a talk with her.”

  “Do you want to go right now?”

  “Yes, I do, unless you have other plans,” I replied. “We’ve ridden by her house, but we haven’t gone up to her door.”

  “That’s because it didn’t look like anyone was home.”

  “Yeah, but today is Saturday. Somebody’s probably there now. What could it hurt? If we could just get inside, I’m sure we could nose around and come up with something.”

  “Like what? A bloody hammer?” he joked.

  “You have two choices: Rose Hudgins or Tom Dorey. They’re the only two people who had any contact with Helen, except the man in her car. If she’s dead, he’s the killer. If that’s the case, I believe our man’s a local. Who else would be on foot in an area, miles apart from any house or store? All we have to do is poke around a little more.”

  “Who says he was on foot? Maybe he had a car parked somewhere, or she could’ve picked him up outside the grill. Who knows?”

  “If she picked him up outside of the grill, don’t you think it would seem strange to him if she stopped five miles down the road to get gas? She could’ve done that at the gas station next to the diner. How else could she explain it? This leads me to believe she picked him up somewhere along the way, before she reached the next gas station. Stopping for gas was probably a ploy on her part to get him to let her stop. She was hoping that she’d get somebody’s attention... someone who could help her. What about the used car lot? Was anyone working the afternoon Helen stopped at the Piney Mountain Grill? Maybe someone saw something. Perhaps the bad guy worked there. What about the mini-mart? It sits right in the middle of everything, and people are constantly going in and out of that place. Who was on duty the...”

  “Hold on a minute, `ge ya. You sure have a wild imagination.”

  “You know, I’m getting pretty tired of your voodoo language. If you have something to say to me, say it in English. I have enough to deal with as it is,” I demanded.

  I was stressed out and didn’t need to play footsies with Billy. I think I was just a little bit jealous that he could speak a language that I didn’t understand. It also made our communication more difficult.

  “Forget it. It’s not important,” Billy said. “Let’s go in and have breakfast with your mom and your boyfriend—then we’ll go out and conquer the world.”

  Chapter 17

  During breakfast, we discussed the upcoming holiday. Billy insisted we join his family for their 4th of July party. He assured Cole that he was invited as usual, which made me happy because I wanted the two of them to recapture their friendship. I knew they’d grown apart over the years, and I felt it was important they mend fences, if I was going to be a part of their lives. Mom was delighted to be invited, but insisted we all behave ourselves and not show our butts. What was that all about? Had we begun to act like children? Not me.

  Billy and I made plans to go visit Rose Hudgins after breakfast. My curiosity was piqued by the birth certificate I’d found, and I wanted to get inside her house. I already had my suspicions about her. I never suspected she had anything to do with Helen’s disappearance, but I had a feeling she was hiding something. Her strange reaction to the mention of her family sent up red flags. What was it about them that made her so uncomfortable? Did it have anything to do with her adopted brother? Maybe he didn’t know he was adopted, and she was afraid if we kept digging, he’d somehow learn about it. Whatever the deal was, I was determined to find out.

  When I mentioned that Billy and I needed to ride out to Gordonsville after breakfast, Cole glanced over at Mom, then back to me.

  “If you aren’t going to be gone all day, maybe you and I could get together this evening.”

  I saw a smile come across Mom’s face. Oh no, she has something up her sleeve, I thought. She always gets that silly grin on her face when she’s up to one of her shenanigans. At least, she was smiling again.

  “I’d like that very much,” I gushed. I tried not to be overly zealous, but every time I got close to this man, I found myself turning into mush. I was drawn to his firm, masculine body... his tanned skin. He was kind, gentle, loving, and perfect in so
many ways.

  Mom got up and started clearing the table, while the rest of us followed her lead.

  “Mack was a good man,” she started. “He loved his family and me for many years. He was the center of our universe. However, now he’s gone.” One lone tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, pausing just long enough to regain her composure. “Now it’s just me—and I’m going to do what Mack would’ve wanted me to do. I’m going to see that our family stays together and continues to be a family.” She pushed her shoulders back, and continued with the determination of a general commanding his troops. “From now on, I’m going to run this house the way I should. I want to know what’s going on with everyone in this family, and that includes our friends.” She bounced glances back and forth amongst the three of us. “Cole, you and Billy have become a part of our family and I want you to feel at home. At the same time, I want you to keep in mind that I’m a mother, and it’s my job to worry.”

  I couldn’t imagine what the guys thought about Mom’s revelation, but I knew my mom. This was her way of getting her life back in order—taking control, and laying down the law. She was in charge of our home.

  “When Mack was alive we always had dinner around seven every night. Anyone who can’t make it at dinnertime, can heat up his, or her own leftovers,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  This was an open invitation for Billy and Cole to join our family, and was gladly accepted by both.

  “You can count on me,” Billy said. “We’ll be home for dinner. Won’t we, Jesse?”

  “H...,” I started to say, but caught myself before the word came out.

  Mom shot me one of her dirty looks. She hated it when I cursed. She’d sometimes tell me that cursing was for sinners and ignorant people; people who couldn’t find an intelligent word to say instead.

  “Yes, we will,” I said... instead.

  Cole explained that he had to cut his grass and work in the yard. He would be back for dinner as long as he could bring something, and help Mom in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up. She even suggested that he bring River back with him.