Dead Silence

by Brenda Novak

  Clay’s involvement finally scared off the guys who were using Grace sexually. But the damage had already been done. The name-calling and other cruelty continued.

  His cell phone rang. Kennedy glanced down at it, surprised to see his mother’s home number listed on his caller ID. Camille was supposed to be at the community pool with the boys. What were they doing home already?

  He punched the Talk button. “Hello?”

  “Have you heard?” she asked.

  “Heard what?”

  “Grace Montgomery’s back in town.”

  No kidding. He pictured the woman who’d just accused him of having a shriveled heart and a phony smile. She’d been attractive in high school. It wasn’t her looks that had marked her as an outcast, only her neediness. But now she was even prettier. Eyebrows that had been too thick were now slender and arched; teeth that had been slightly crooked were perfectly straight. She still had the same olive-colored skin, ice-blue eyes and dark, thick hair. The contrast was striking, but it was her high cheekbones and stubborn chin—both of which had been too severe for a young girl—that really set her apart. Beyond her stunning figure, of course. She’d developed before all the other girls, which certainly hadn’t helped her situation growing up.

  “Kennedy?” his mother prompted when he didn’t answer right away.

  “I know she’s back,” he said.

  “Who told you?”

  “I just ran into her at the pizza parlor.”

  “Someone said she’s driving a BMW. Is that true?”

  He knew his mother would feel better if he told her Grace’s car was one of the smaller, less expensive models, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it—for that reason. “It’s true.”

  “How do you think she got it?”

  Did it matter? Why shouldn’t Grace have something nice? “I have no idea,” he said.

  “I can’t imagine. District attorneys don’t make that much. Especially assistant district attorneys. Maybe she married for money, like her mother, and now she’s back because her husband’s already gone missing.”

  “You’re being ridiculous, Mom,” Kennedy said with a heavy dose of annoyance. “The reverend wasn’t exactly a millionaire. If Irene Montgomery married him for money, she sure didn’t get a lot.”

  “She got the farm, didn’t she? Clay still lives there.”

  Kennedy could see they were heading for an argument and changed the subject. “Why aren’t you at the pool?”

  “They closed at five for cleaning.”

  “So the boys got to swim for only an hour?”

  “That’s long enough, isn’t it?”

  He could imagine Teddy’s disappointment after having waited all day. “I’m on my way. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  “Will you be staying for supper?”

  “No, I want to get home.” He’d been doing well lately, adjusting to the loss of Raelynn. He’d been thinking about other things, worried about his father and swept up in the campaign. But tonight he felt his wife’s absence like a gaping hole in his chest.

  “I’ve got steaks and barbecue beans and corn,” his mother said. He knew she enjoyed taking care of him, enjoyed feeling needed and important. And he appreciated everything she did. For an only child, that kind of intense focus often came with the territory. Sometimes it was too much. But with his father ill, he needed to give her extra support, which made it difficult to keep her at a healthier distance.

  “Thanks, but there’re plenty of groceries at home.”

  She gave a snort of displeasure. “Why would you go anywhere else when I’ve got dinner ready?”

  “How’s Dad?” he asked instead of answering.

  “Fine. He’s going to beat this. He knows it and I know it.”

  Kennedy wished he knew it. Maybe if Raelynn hadn’t died, he’d have more faith. But the luck he’d experienced early in his life didn’t seem to be holding.

  After dialing and hanging up—twice—Grace gripped her cell phone with more resolve. She had to contact Madeline. She’d been in town for two and a half days. She’d seen Clay and Irene, even several of the jocks from high school. She couldn’t procrastinate about calling her stepsister any longer. In some ways, she didn’t want to put it off. She loved Madeline. It was just that she felt too much like a hypocrite pretending to be a good sister, a good friend, when she knew what she knew.

  “Hello?”

  “Maddy?”

  “Yes?”

  Wearing a fresh pair of shorts and a tank top, Grace lay in the hammock that hung from two oak trees on the left side of the property, nursing a glass of iced tea. She planned to spend a few hours in the kitchen later, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d paused to notice a sunset, let alone watch it.

  After reveling in the quiet spectacle for the past five minutes, she thought she could understand why some people said that joy was in the simple things.

  “It’s Grace.”

  “Grace! Why haven’t you called me?”

  “I’ve been busy getting settled. But don’t worry, I’m staying for several weeks, at least.”

  “Weeks? Are you kidding?”

  “No.”

  “That’s wonderful! I drove by Evonne’s earlier hoping to catch you, but you weren’t home.”

  Grace refused to think of the pizza parlor debacle. “I was picking up a few groceries.” She took a sip of her iced tea, remembering her mad dash into the Piggly Wiggly, where she’d quickly gathered a few essentials before she could run into anyone else. “How’re things at the paper?”

  Madeline had worked as the editor of the Stillwater Independent since graduating with a journalism degree from Mississippi State University. She’d actually bought the paper last year when the original owners retired, with ten thousand dollars down and monthly payments that would stretch out over five years. So now she owned it and edited it—and struggled to pay her bills. Grace had often wondered where her stepsister might’ve ended up if her father hadn’t disappeared. The New York Times? The Washington Post?

  When they were growing up, Madeline had talked a lot about working for such a prestigious paper. As it was, she seemed hesitant to leave Stillwater for any length of time. Grace suspected she was afraid her father would come back while she was gone. Or that someone else she loved might disappear from her life if she didn’t keep careful watch. Ironically, Madeline was closer to Irene and Clay, even to Molly in some ways, than Grace was.

  The past had affected them all very differently. Grace hated leaving herself vulnerable, so she tried to wall people out. Madeline was afraid she’d lose the people she loved, so she tried to wall them in.

  “The paper’s doing well,” she said. “Our circulation’s been growing, especially since I started the section called ‘Singles.’”

  “Is that some type of classifieds?”

  “A once-a-week showcase on two singles, one female, one male.”

  “Interesting.”

  “It is. It helps people get to know each other. What are you doing tonight?”

  Grace thought of the note she’d found stuck in her door and couldn’t resist a smile. Do you have my cookies? Teddy.

  “I’d like to do some baking.”

  “Seriously?”

  Her smile widened. “Seriously.”

  “Sounds like fun to me. Could you use some help?”

  Grace’s heart beat heavily for a moment before she managed an answer. “Sure.”

  “I was planning to watch a video with Kirk, but I see him all the time. I’d rather be with you.”

  “Are you two getting serious?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You’re as bad as I am. You’ve been seeing him for three years, Maddy.”

  This observation met with an audible sigh. “I know. The relationship never progresses. The friendship’s too good to go our separate ways. But we’re not in love enough to marry.”

  “Well, Molly and Clay are doing no better,” Grace said.r />
  “Clay could get married. Lord knows, plenty of women want him. He just doesn’t seem interested in anything that lasts more than a single night. He was actually voted ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ and ‘Least Likely to Marry’ in the poll I did for Singles a few months ago.”

  Grace could understand why Clay might hesitate to make a commitment. How could he move someone into that house and still hide the secret? What if his wife wanted to relocate at some point? Half the town would tear the farm apart searching for Lee Barker.

  “And Molly’s only twenty-nine,” Madeline was saying. “That’s not too unusual.”

  “Twenty-nine is definitely old enough to be married,” Grace said.

  “True.”

  Grace didn’t want to examine her own situation, which was probably coming next, so she changed the subject. “What about bringing Kirk with you tonight?”

  “That’s a thought,” Madeline replied, not questioning the shift in topics. “He just called to say something happened at the tavern last night that he wants to tell me about.” She lowered her voice, infusing it with meaning. “I think it concerns Dad.”

  Grace had been pushing off on the ground with one foot. Now she stilled the hammock. “In what way?”

  “I don’t know. He was at work and didn’t get to explain before he had to go. But it sounds promising.”

  Not this again. Poor Madeline. “Maddy, you have to let it go, okay? It’s not good for you to obsess over…” She’d been about to say “the reverend” but forced herself to say “Daddy.”

  The reverend himself had told his stepchildren to call him Dad, and had gotten very angry when they didn’t, especially if other people were around when they slipped up. Once he was no longer part of their lives, their mother had insisted they continue the practice for the same reason they couldn’t pack up the office in the barn.

  “Until my dad met your mother, it was just me and him,” Madeline said. “He was all I had.”

  Her mother had committed suicide three years before the reverend married Irene. Grace had always wondered exactly what had caused her severe unhappiness and guessed she’d come to know the real man behind her husband’s pious mask. But no one ever talked about her. Even Madeline pretended Eliza Barker had never existed. Grace assumed Madeline hadn’t forgiven her yet.

  “I know how much he meant to you, but—”

  “I need some closure, Grace. If he’s dead I’ll have to accept that, right? Then I’ll know he’s not coming back. Like my birth mother. That’s something, isn’t it?”

  “Does Kirk believe he’s dead?” Grace asked.

  “Of course. But unlike most other people around here, he’s not blaming Irene.”

  “That’s good,” Grace said with a fake laugh. “I’d hate to have anyone like that influencing you.”

  “She’s part of the reason I can’t quit searching for answers,” Madeline replied. “I’m determined to finally prove to this town that she’s as innocent as you or I. They’ve been so unfair to her—and to you and Molly and Clay.”

  After the reverend disappeared, Grace’s family was all Madeline had. Grace supposed she could’ve moved in with her cousins, but she’d never been particularly close to them. Not only that, her stubborn loyalty to Irene separated her from Joe’s family almost immediately.

  Grace pressed the cool glass to her cheek and closed her eyes. “I appreciate that, Maddy.”

  Her stepsister grew silent, then said, “We’ll be over in an hour, okay?”

  “Maddy?” Lowering her drink, Grace opened her eyes.

  “What?”

  “Where does Kennedy Archer live?”

  “In the old Baumgarter place.”

  The Baumgarter place was a fabulous Georgian that sat back from the road a couple miles south of town. Grace remembered it well. Besides the fact that it was a landmark in Stillwater, Lacy Baumgarter had been one of the most popular girls in school and had held many lavish parties at that house.

  Not that Grace had ever been invited….

  “It’s a beautiful home,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

  “You should see how Raelynn fixed it up. After the Baumgarters moved away, the Greens bought it. They wound up getting a divorce, and Ann kept the house but couldn’t afford to maintain it so it fell into disrepair. Finally, she sold it to Kennedy and Raelynn, who restored it.”

  “Wonderful.” Grace pictured the SUV she’d spotted on Apple Blossom this morning and felt a moment’s relief. On the way home from the pizza parlor she’d realized that Kennedy’s Explorer was black and had begun to think the driver of that vehicle might’ve been him. But if he lived in the Baumgarter place, chances were fairly good he wouldn’t be on Apple Blossom at six-thirty in the morning.

  “Why do you ask?” Madeline wanted to know.

  “I thought maybe he lived in town.”

  “Nope. You heard he’s running for mayor, didn’t you?”

  “I’ve seen the signs.” They were everywhere, but it looked as though Councilwoman Nibley was running against him and launching a pretty aggressive campaign of her own.

  “I’ve endorsed him at the paper. Will you be around to vote?”

  Grace set the hammock moving again. “I want to support you and your paper, Maddy, but I probably wouldn’t vote for Kennedy even if I was here for the election.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  Grace didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  “Really? Why not? He’s nice. And I feel sorry for him.”

  “He comes from the most powerful family in Stillwater, he’s handsome, fit and rich. What’s to pity, Maddy?” Grace asked dryly.

  “He took Raelynn’s death really hard. I’ve never seen a man cry like that at a funeral.”

  Grace remembered her mother’s mentioning the car accident that had claimed Raelynn’s life. “I feel bad about his wife,” she admitted.

  “They’d been together since their sophomore year.”

  Grace had gone to high school with them, so she was unlikely to forget that. “I know. But she was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. He didn’t deserve her.”

  A stunned silence met this response. “Do you have something specific against Kennedy Archer?”

  Besides the fact that, unlike so many of his friends, he hadn’t found her worthy of notice? Grace couldn’t decide which was worse—being taunted and used or not being good enough to get that much attention. Somehow the contempt Kennedy had shown her in high school stung more than Joe’s or Pete’s cruelty. He’d never actively abused her. But she’d always known that if he’d broken rank with the others, they would’ve liked her, too. Kennedy was the leader. He formed his own opinions and judgments, and for the most part the others followed him. It was Kennedy she’d not so secretly admired. Yet Raelynn, the one girl who shouldn’t have been nice to her, had been kindest of all. And Kennedy, the one boy who could’ve changed everything, hadn’t bothered to acknowledge that she was alive.

  “Nothing specific,” she said. “See you when you get here.”

  “How’s your mowing service going?” Kennedy asked Teddy as he backed out of his parents’ drive. Kennedy had told Camille he wasn’t staying for dinner, but his father had seemed particularly interested in seeing him tonight, and his mother had everything on the table when he’d arrived. He’d decided to stay for his father’s sake, and they’d eaten together. Then he and Otis had talked politics for a while. It was nearly eight o’clock by the time he’d collected his boys and, taking the leftovers Camille wanted to send home with him, gone outside to the Explorer.

  “He got into trouble today and had to sit in the corner,” Heath volunteered. Kennedy’s oldest son was now big enough for the passenger seat, but Kennedy made him sit in back, where it was safer. Raelynn had been on her way to have her hair cut when she veered into the center of the road to avoid a car that had suddenly turned in front of her—and hit a semi coming from the other direction. Nothing could’ve saved her f
rom an impact like that. But Kennedy wasn’t taking any chances with his children.

  “Shut up, Heath,” Teddy said. “You don’t have to tell Dad everything.”

  Kennedy glanced at his youngest son in the rearview mirror. It was getting dark out, but he could still see Teddy’s scowl. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What’d you do?” Kennedy persisted.

  Heath pointed at his window as they drove past Evonne’s. “He went to that house.”

  Kennedy guessed Grace had parked her Beemer in the detached garage because it was no longer sitting out front, as it had been when he passed by earlier. Kirk Vantassel’s truck was there now, and all the lights were on inside the house, which meant Grace was probably entertaining her stepsister. Madeline had been seeing Kirk for a long time. “Why’d that upset Grandma?”

  “He’s supposed to stay away from Main Street. It’s too busy.”

  “I went through the alley and the back gate,” Teddy argued.

  “That doesn’t matter, stupid,” Heath replied. “Evonne’s dead. Someone else lives there now.”

  “Hey,” Kennedy warned, but Teddy was already responding.

  “You’re stupid! I know someone else lives there. I met her. She gave me an extra dollar for pulling weeds and said I could mow the lawn in a few days.”

  “You have to mind Grandma,” Heath said. “He can’t go there anymore, right, Dad?”

  Kennedy turned left at the stop sign and, another block down the road, Evonne’s house disappeared from his mirrors. He knew Grace didn’t like him and was tempted to tell Teddy to stay away because of that. But he remembered all too well how isolated she’d been as a girl and was determined not to support that again. “I don’t see why it would be any different than working for Evonne.”