Silver Player: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Okay, the alert is out. We’ll start some calls into the bus station, and Butch will go over to the train depot.” Blue Ridge is known for its scenic route ride. I know nothing about other train services. “We’ll also send out an all-call to the other local sheriff’s departments. You say about two hours?” June confirms, and I nod. “She couldn’t have gotten too far.”

  “Unless she went into the woods,” Butch adds, and June swivels to narrow her eyes at her partner.

  “Not helping,” she warns, and Butch apologizes. As he hangs his head, we hear the thunderous rumble of feet coming up the steps, and my heart leaps with hope. I’m standing up, ready to envelop Sadie in my arms and then wring her neck for making me worry, until I see Billy help himself through the door.

  “Billy?” Butch questions as the door opens with enough force it hits Butch behind it.

  “Billy,” June repeats addressing him as she stands, but Billy ignores them both, stepping up to me.

  “What happened?” His hands grip my shoulders, and I struggle under the relief of his touch.

  “Sadie…” My voice wavers. “I think she ran away.” I fall against Billy or maybe he draws me into his chest. I don’t really notice other than the comfort I find in his arms. His hand cups the back of my head while the other presses at my lower back. I listen to him speaking to June, catching up on details.

  “Shouldn’t we be out looking for her?”

  “Where would you look?” June questions, and Billy sags against me.

  “Anywhere,” he snaps. “Do something.”

  “Now, Billy, no need to address me with that tone. I don’t see how any of this is your concer—”

  “She’s my daughter,” he states, his voice cracking with the announcement. I pull back to look at him, surprised by the abrupt admission. He isn’t looking at June or Butch, though, but down at me as he repeats with more conviction. “She’s my daughter.”

  His hands cup my cheek as his eyes hold mine. “We’ll find her, okay? I promise. We’ll find her.” Tears well in my eyes once more as he pulls me to him, wrapping both arms around me, securing me to him, and I only wish I was half as confident as he was.

  + + +

  My small apartment overflows with people. June. Grace. Clyde. Billy. And I need a breather. I could step outside, but I long for the warmth of my bed. I just want a minute of solitude. My head is full. My heart empty, so I step into my room.

  Grace has been telling me for the past hour that I need some rest. It’s two a.m., and there’s no chance I could sleep. I’m afraid to close my eyes, but hopeful this might all be a dream. A bad nightmare.

  I’m so sorry, Theresa, I send out the silent prayer as I curl to my side, tucking up my legs and laying my head on my pillow. My eyes close, but I won’t sleep. Within minutes, the door to my room opens and shuts. Shoes thump to the floor, and a body curls up behind me. Without opening my eyes, I know who it is, and he presses his face into the back of my neck while his hand comes to the side of my thigh. A deep inhalation fills me with the scent of him. Cloves and spice and male.

  We don’t speak for a long minute.

  “I want to help. Tell me what to do.” The fear in his voice does nothing to settle my nerves.

  “I just don’t know, Billy.” My voice sounds weak even to me, and his forehead presses at the back of my head.

  “I need to do something. How can I help you?” His voice strains as if he’s asking more for himself than for me. What can he do to feel better that involves me?

  Taking a deep breath, I whisper, “Just hold me.”

  “Hold on to me, baby,” he mutters into my neck, and I spin, tucking my face into his chest. His strong arms slip over me, his fingers delving into my hair to hold my head against him. I squirm as if I could get close enough to him, as if I could crawl under his skin and he could keep me safe. My arms snake around his waist, and my hands flatten on his shoulder blades.

  You’re safe with me. I don’t want to consider all the horrible things running through my head, so I clutch at him instead.

  “I’m here,” he mutters reassuring me. “We’ll find her.” I nod but can’t speak as fresh tears slowly shed.

  25

  Hard facts and soft hearts

  [Billy]

  “They found her.”

  The statement jolts Roxie and I upright at the same time as Grace repeats the message. Thank fuck.

  “She’s in Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta?” Roxie croaks, brushing back her hair and looking sexy in her sleep-deprived appearance. I can’t say we fell asleep, just held onto each other as tightly as we could. Maybe I dozed. I don’t know, but I’m foggy, and I’m sporting a semi, which isn’t appropriate, but I can’t help it when I’m this close to Roxie. Since our night together and our back steps make-out under the stars, we haven’t kissed again. I hate to admit how I often I think about kissing her.

  “Okay,” I groggily croak. “Where do we go?”

  “They’re holding her at a district precinct. Let me get the exact address,” Grace offers.

  “A police station?” Roxie questions.

  “Yeah, something about a cemetery. Sheriff Barne can give you the details.”

  Roxie looks at me over her shoulder. “A cemetery.” Her head lowers, and without thought, I kiss her shoulder.

  “Let’s go get our girl.” I swing my legs off the bed, slipping back into my boots before extending a hand to Roxie. “I’ll drive,” I say, holding my breath, waiting for Roxie to argue with me, but she doesn’t. For the first time, she looks a little lost as she stares back at my offered hand. “Roxie, darlin’?”

  The endearment snaps her out of wherever her thoughts took her, and she scoots off the bed without my help. In minutes, we’re on our way to Atlanta, which is an hour away.

  + + +

  “What were you thinking?” Roxie begins the second we enter the precinct and find Sadie sitting on a bench in a busy hallway. Roxie’s verbal assault isn’t what I expected from her after all the tears and fear. “Do you know how worried we were?”

  Sadie doesn’t answer. Her head remains lowered, her midnight hair a curtain.

  “Why don’t we get out of here, and Sadie can tell us all about it on the ride home?” I suggest, but Roxie isn’t finished, gripping her crossbody bag like it’s a lifeline, and Sadie doesn’t move.

  “A cemetery. What were you doing in a cemetery?” Roxie’s voice grows louder, and my head turns in her direction.

  “Roxanne,” I warn, feeling strangely like I understand Sadie’s motive better than Roxie.

  “Sadie?” Roxie drones, her voice lowering on the questioning purr of her niece’s name.

  “I wanted to visit Mom.”

  Roxanne gasps, but I release a breath, realizing my thoughts were correct. Roxie’s the one who told me the holidays could be difficult, so I don’t understand why she’s overreacting. This makes sense to me for some reason.

  “I thought you ran away.” Roxanne exhales in frustration. “I had to call the sheriff. This does not look good with the suspicion of you and those break-ins. Running away makes it look like you had a motive to steal from me and Hetty. How did you get down here?”

  I don’t think now is the time or place to discuss these things, but Sadie’s head finally lifts, her hair cascading back from her face, which is pale and tear-stained, not a trace of the dark makeup exists. It hits me how young she looks—how young she is. Despite the body of a young woman, she’s still only sixteen, and Roxie needs to settle down.

  “A friend brought me.”

  “What friend?” Roxie snaps as she’d already told the sheriff she didn’t know of any friends. Maybe that’s another issue for Sadie. She doesn’t have anyone else in town but Roxie and me. Well, she would have opened the door to a large family if she had only come to dinner this evening, or was that yesterday?

  As silence ensues, I turn to Roxie. “Are you finished yet?” Her mouth gapes when she looks over at m
e, hands still tugging at her bag strap and expression full of ire. I ignore her demeaning glare and turn to Sadie.

  “Sadie,” I interject. “Are you hurt?”

  She shakes her head, acknowledging my question.

  “Are you done here?”

  Her brows pinch in question.

  “Did you see what you needed to see in Atlanta? Do what you needed to do?”

  Her head tips, and she slowly nods, her eyes welling with liquid as she looks at me. Something in me breaks, like that root-clenching sensation gripping my chest is now a twig snapping off a tree. I can’t handle her tears.

  With hands on my hips, I tilt my head, motioning Sadie to come to me. To my surprise, she slowly stands, bypasses Roxie, and walks into the arms I open to draw her into me. With hands covering her face, she burrows into my chest as I wrap my limbs around her and lower to kiss her head.

  “It’s time to go, okay?” I say to her, and she nods against me. When I look up, Roxie’s stunned face includes a gaping mouth, and a flabbergasted expression.

  “How am I the bad guy?” she mutters, and then her eyes close. “I sounded like Theresa.” I hold out a hand for her, but she ignores it and brushes past Sadie and me. With an arm still over Sadie’s shoulder, I escort her out of the police station.

  My truck is silent for a while, and I can’t take the quiet tension. Finally, I clear my throat.

  “Ready to speak?” I ask, glancing over at Sadie, whose head rests on the back of the seat. In my truck, we sit three across on the bench seating. Sadie closes her eyes, and I shift my gaze to Roxie, who looks like she has plenty to say but won’t. Her elbow rests on the passenger door, propping up her head.

  “My dad used to have a rule. No questions asked for twenty-four hours. I can uphold that rule, but we have the time now.” The last word lingers, hinting that this would be a good time to talk.

  Roxie looks over at me, but I don’t take my eyes off the road.

  “Is this like a house rule?” Sadie mumbles, her eyes still closed, and I chuckle.

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Sadie remains quiet, but I want answers, and I can’t seem to abide by the rule I just mentioned.

  “Let’s start with where you go each night.”

  Roxie’s head swings back in my direction, and I feel the weight of her eyes on me.

  “I go running…to the cemetery.”

  It’s my turn to side-eye Sadie. The cemetery is outside of town by a few miles. It’s the resting place of my grandparents, Giant’s wife, and Mati’s husband. “Why?”

  “It makes me feel closer to Mom.”

  I have all kinds of questions, but Sadie stretches her arms forward and surprises Roxie and myself by giving an explanation. “Mom’s buried so far away, and I feel like if I go to the cemetery here, she might hear me, see me, find me somehow.” Her head lowers, and her hair falling over her face a second before she brushes strands behind her ear. “That’s weird, right?”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Roxie asks, her tone returning to her more normal cadence while addressing her niece.

  “I moved to Blue Ridge, and it didn’t hit me until I’d been here a while that I didn’t have any way to talk to Mom.”

  My eyes finally met Roxie’s over Sadie’s bent head.

  “So in missing your mom, you ran away to Atlanta?” Roxie questions.

  “It’s Thanksgiving. The local cemetery wasn’t enough.” Sadie’s voice is so small, that cracked feeling returns, and I’m ready to turn this truck around and pitch a tent in the Atlanta cemetery if it makes Sadie happy. Roxie reaches her arm over Sadie’s shoulder, and her niece falls against her.

  “I’m sorry I made you worry,” Sadie says, and Roxie closes her eyes as she shakes her head. All is forgiven when her lips press to the top of Sadie’s head.

  “How did you get to Atlanta?” I ask, the one question remaining this evening.

  “Christian gave me a ride.”

  Roxie’s expression shifts to puzzled, and I take a deep breath.

  “Christian Grady?” I question. Then another thought occurs to me. “Tell me you didn’t ride a motorcycle down here.”

  Sadie doesn’t answer, and Roxie pulls her tighter as she moans, “Oh Sadie, no.”

  With how her mother died, I didn’t think Sadie would ride a motorcycle unless she had some kind of death wish. I’ve heard about these things. Putting one’s self in harm’s way to prove she’s immortal or in hopes of joining those deceased. My stomach feels sick.

  We don’t speak anymore, each of us with heavy thoughts filling our heads, and Sadie eventually dozes against Roxie. I struggle to keep my emotions in check as I think about the mortality of both Sadie and Roxie and realize that the most important people in my life are sitting in this truck. I blink at the blurring road before me as horrible visions fill my head, removing them from my life. The void they would leave if they disappeared hurts and curiously, I question why it’s taken so long for me to find them.

  + + +

  Sadie wasn’t a baby, and I certainly couldn’t carry her up the back stairs, so she had to walk like a drunken sailor, stumbling into her room and collapsing on her bed. I laughed as she fell face-first.

  “When did things get so mixed up?” Roxie stated, staring down at her niece.

  “I don’t think anything’s mixed up. She’s just missing her mom.”

  Roxie turns sad eyes on me, glancing at me like she’d forgotten I was in the room with her. She looks lost herself, and I want nothing more than to hold her again. Reaching under my chin, I scrub at it.

  “It’s late or rather super early, so would you mind if I stayed? I can sleep on the couch…I just…I don’t want to be apart from her.” From either of you. I didn’t know how to process my feelings, which seem to be slowly catching up to me now that we are back in Roxanne’s apartment. The thought of losing them both still haunts me hard, and my leaden feet couldn’t carry me out of this place without a fight.

  “Sure,” Roxie says, exhaling, and for a brief second, that release of air sounds like relief. Did she want me to stay as well? Maybe I could stay in her room and hold her like I want, but when she heads to a linen closet and pulls out sheets and a blanket, I learn my desire will not be met.

  “It’s been a long night,” she says, her voice weak as she works the sheet over the cushions. Her hands shake, and I reach for her forearm, stilling her frenetic movement.

  “I can do this,” I say, not certain if I’m assuring her I can make up the couch or I can be a father. I didn’t react the way Roxie wanted in the police station. Perhaps, I was supposed to rant and yell and accuse like she did, but I’d been on the receiving end of such negative attention a time or two, and I didn’t want to do that to Sadie. She didn’t deserve it. Not yet.

  Roxie turns tired eyes on me and nods. She’s hardly spoken to me since we picked up Sadie.

  “Well, good night then,” she whispers, sweeping back her hair and then leaving me with too many thoughts in her living room.

  26

  Misgivings

  [Roxanne]

  When I finally hit the bed, I should have slept. It has been nearly eighteen hours of panic and fear, and my body should have crashed, only my thoughts refuse to let me be.

  What if I’d lost her? Theresa would never forgive me. Even from the grave, my sister would haunt me with my irresponsibility and lenient ways, cursing me for being too soft, too kind, too unstructured. My sister used to be that way until motherhood. Is this what I’m turning into? I recall how my heart raced and I rushed the police department, frantic to find Sadie and tug her to me, but then lost my composure once I saw her. Relief overwhelmed me but so did frustration.

  She missed her mother.

  It made sense. I missed mine when she passed. I still do, and it strikes at the oddest times. I understood the loneliness, the abandonment, the hole in her heart, yet I went berserk, forgetting myself as I laid into her.

  A
nd then Billy. Damn him.

  Are you done? he asked of me and then held out his arms like the good parent. Good cop. Bad cop. I am not going to compete with him. I am not going to let him get off so easily. Parenting takes a united front. I’ve heard horror stories of dads who are always gifting items, taking expensive trips, and allowing kids anything while moms must play the other side of the coin: offering what kids need versus want, providing opportunity versus fancy vacations, and regulating manners. The separation in our roles weighs between us.

  “Roxie?”

  Go away, I want to snap, but I didn’t. I lay there, my eyes closed, hoping he’ll think I’m sleeping.

  “Roxie, are you sleeping, or are you faking it, so I’ll go away?”

  I hate how he can read me.

  “What do you want, William?” The barrier of his given name provides the formality I need to restore the balance between us. Forget the tender kisses. Forget the mind-blowing orgasm. Forget the small sweet gestures of his continued presence. He’s gotten too close to me lately, and it’s messing with my head. And my heart.

  “I want to sleep with you.” The quiet tone of his voice and the hesitant statement turn me from my side to look up at him over my shoulder. “I just…I want to hold you.” He pauses, scratching under his chin like he does. “Tonight scared me a little bit.”

  I sit up, surprised by his admission. He appeared so rational. Driving to the police station, wrapping Sadie in his arms, and then diplomatically asking her questions in his truck, he was calm and collected while I was losing my cool, brewing like a pot of tea.

  “You seemed so unaffected,” I state, drawing my knees up to my chest. I’m wearing a mid-thigh flannel nightshirt, but the blankets cover me. Billy’s sweater is no longer on his chest, and his T-shirt clings to his midsection. He’s solid from what I know of him. With my eyes on his abdomen, he crawls up the bed next to me, making himself at home on his back. He tucks a hand behind his head, but the other slips around my backside, tugging at my hip. I lower to rest in the nook he’s made for me.