He got down on his hands and knees and pawed the ground. Weak and helpless. Like when he was a kid scouring the playground for his lunch money after the bullies at school called him a retard and knocked him down. Then, he couldn’t see because of his tears, now because he was blind. And now, no one came to his aid. No big brother found his money for him, helped him up, and went after the bullies. Earl had quit defending him long ago, when Garth became a bully himself. Or so Earl said.
But what did he know? He’d never been called ugly and retarded, never been beaten up. He’d always been the favorite, the best-looking and the smartest, the one with good grades, the one chosen captain of the basketball team, the one all the girls wanted.
Their other brother, Wayne, was content to stay in Earl’s shadow, but not him. He’d hoped to show them he was better than Earl by shooting the white stag. Ever since he was little, he’d heard stories about the buck that had appeared to his great-great uncle, Clyde, and spoken to him in a dream. He’d wanted them to see that for all his legendary power, the white stag could be hunted and killed like any other deer.
Said he was crazy to even try. And called him a damn fool each time he failed. Let them. He wouldn’t have to put up with their mockery much longer. Their pity either. He wasn’t going to live out his life in darkness like Clyde.
He patted another part of the floor, and this time, found the key. Was so happy he felt like hollering. But he couldn’t risk anyone hearing him.
He rose and stood listening. From the bathroom came the sound of running water. Sis was still in the shower. Lazy bitch took her time, but this once he was glad of it. Outside, he heard the creak of the rusty swing set as Cheryl pushed Derek back and forth. They wouldn’t stay out all morning. The brat would whine for lunch soon.
He opened the case without a hitch. A mixture of burnt powder, oiled metal, wood, and forest pine. God, he loved that smell! Loved holding the gun even more. Garth gave a small moan of pleasure, they fit together so well. Better than him and any woman.
A door opened. He heard a gasp, then footsteps hurrying toward him.
Then his head exploded.
Chapter 36
The ringing phone roused Kathryn from troubled sleep. She half hoped it was Earl, because she wanted to clear the air between them. Still, as the person responsible for the rift, she wasn’t looking forward to explaining why she’d suddenly lit into him, starting a fight that led to his backhanding Gordon. It was a relief to hear Millie’s voice on the other end: “Sorry if I woke you, but we need to talk. Can you meet me at the historical society room at noon?”
“Sure . . . This is about last night?
“Yes. Gotta go. See you at noon.”
Kathryn hung up, curious about what Millie had to say. She considered calling Earl herself, but decided to wait until she’d spoken with Millie.
*****
Millie was waiting for her at the side door of the town hall. Kathryn searched her face for signs of what to expect, but Millie’s expression was as open and friendly as before. She unlocked the door, and they descended into the damp, mildewed basement. Millie perched on the oak school teacher’s desk, while Kathryn settled in a rickety chair. Teacher and pupil. Except that Millie was on top of the desk instead of behind it, her upper body erect, hands neatly laced in her lap, legs crossed at the ankle.
“Well,” Millie began with a wry smile, “last night was full of surprises.”
Kathryn shifted uneasily in her chair. The floor must have been uneven, or one of the chair legs was shorter than the other, because the chair rocked from side to side, banging when it landed.
Millie frowned slightly. “For starters, I didn’t expect to see you at the benefit. Thought you had a party for your boyfriend’s daughter in Boston.”
“It ended early.”
“Fine.” Millie re-crossed her legs. “But what was going on between you and Earl on the dance floor? You were all over each other.”
Kathryn flushed. “I guess we both got a bit carried away.”
“Sure did,” Millie said. “To the point where it was getting embarrassing. That’s why I cut in: to save you from embarrassment.” She re-crossed her legs again. “I hate to ask, but were you on something?”
Kathryn felt her flush deepen. “No, why would do you think that?”
“Because your behavior seemed so . . . unlike you. Earl’s an attractive man, but you’re the last person I’d expect to fall for him. I didn’t think you even liked him.”
There was another bang as Kathryn rocked in her chair. “I didn’t in the beginning. But as I’ve gotten to know him, I’ve realized he’s not just a jerk who likes to play stupid pranks on people. You already know that, of course. You were married to him all those years.”
“I do know him well,” Millie said. “His good side and his bad one. And by his bad side, I don’t simply mean the pranks. He’s got this wild streak. All the Barker men do. People say it’s the rattlesnake venom in their blood. My parents didn’t want me to marry him for that reason. But I was stubborn. And very much in love.” A fond smile came over her face. “I told them I’d die an old maid if I couldn’t have Earl, so finally they gave in. It was the best thing Earl and I could have done. When we married and had a family, he became a settled man. For a long time he was a good husband and father to the boys. Until Diana came along and the craziness started.” Millie’s smile faded, and her face assumed a grim cast.
“Crazy how?”
“Diana was beautiful, passionate, and strong-willed. An activist always campaigning for one cause or another. An outsider, too. She’d grown up in the city, attended private school and a prestigious university, and traveled abroad. Earl had never met anyone like her, and he fell hard. But he was never sure of her like he was of me or any of the other local girls who wanted him. And that drove him crazy. Crazy-jealous.”
“I’m not—” Kathryn began.
Unlacing her fingers, Millie held up a restraining hand. “Let me finish. I know you’re not like Diana, but you’re still an outsider. And last night when you and Earl danced, quarreled, and he got into a fight with Gordon, I felt like the craziness was starting all over again.”
Kathryn started to reply, but Millie cut her off again, this time with a shake of her index finger. “It doesn’t have to continue. If you quit now, you’ll save yourself a lot of trouble down the road. Earl doesn’t know how to behave with outsider women. And you’re best off with someone from your own world. Like your lawyer boyfriend.”
Wood hit wood, as Kathryn teetered in her chair. “I’ll fix that.” Millie slid off the desk. Rummaging in a drawer, she withdrew a dusty journal and wedged it underneath one foot of the chair.
“Better?” she asked, resuming her former position on the desk, legs crossed at the ankles and fingers laced.
“Much.”
“I like you, Kathryn, and I want things to go well for you. So I hope you’ll take my advice in the spirit it’s intended.” Millie leaned forward, bending at the waist so that her back remained straight, and regarded Kathryn with raised eyebrows, head slightly cocked, a silent appeal in her eyes.
Kathryn stared back, and saw a strong woman who was supremely confident in her physical and emotional being. Millie wouldn’t have crashed into a table at the benefit, or nearly fallen through the attic at the Farley house. Rather she possessed the natural grace of a born athlete. She was sure of herself and of her place in the village. At some point she must have decided her role was to help people, because that’s what she did. She arranged care for Emily, found a grief group for Brandy, got her going to A.A., and organized the benefit for Garth. When Earl knocked Gordon down, it was Millie who extended a hand. She was the glue that held things together, the one who fixed things when they were out of whack. Like Kathryn’s wobbly chair. And her relationship with Earl.
Millie didn’t speak to her w
ith the anger and bitterness of her grandmother, or the sometimes reckless abandon of her great-aunt Kit, but as a friend. And the advice she offered was sensible and well-thought-out. Millie knew she’d drifted into potentially dangerous waters, and like a skilled mariner was trying to steer her back on course.
“I’ll think about what you’ve said and—” Kathryn broke off at the sound of someone pounding on the door.
“Millie, come quick!” Lucas Rogers cried. “There’s been trouble up at Garth’s. He’s dead, Sis’s fainted an’ bleeding something fierce.”
Millie rushed from the basement. Kathryn followed. “What happened?” She caught Rogers by the arm.
“Shot himself, according to Cheryl. She was outside with their kid, an’ when she opened the door to come back in, there he was with his gun. Next thing she knew, he blew his head off. Gotta go.” He pulled free of her and raced toward his car.
Kathryn staggered into the sunlight. The whole thing seemed unreal. Another nightmare. In broad daylight. But the ambulance shrieking past told her it was no bad dream.
She didn’t know how she got back to the house. Once there, she couldn’t stop shaking. This was the second time an ambulance had been summoned for Garth: first, he’d been blinded, now he was dead by his own hand. Alan had been there to calm her the first time. Now, there was no one. She longed to hear Alan’s voice, to connect with the world of sanity and reason he represented. Taking a deep breath, she dialed his number.
“Kathryn? I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again.”
His wounded tone pushed her over the brink. “Oh, Alan, I’m sorry I ran out on you last night. I thought it was important for me to attend the benefit for Garth Barker, but it was all for nothing, because he—he shot himself!” She began to cry.
“When did this happen?”
The concern in his voice made her cry all the harder. She didn’t deserve his sympathy but craved it all the same. “Just now.”
“That’s awful. No wonder you’re upset. Hold on a minute, Sophie’s calling me.”
She clung to the handset as if to a lifeline. “Is Sophie all right?” she asked when he returned to the phone.
“She will be when she’s more rested. I’m afraid yesterday’s party was too much for her. I was about to say you could come here, if you want.”
“It’s probably not a good idea with Sophie still recovering.”
“You could always stay with a friend.”
“I’ll be okay. It’s just that this whole thing has been such a shock.”
“Of course. I wish I were there to hold you. But call whenever you want. Maybe in a few days when Sophie’s better, we can see each other. I was hoping we could all spend Thanksgiving with my family in Maine. I mentioned that, didn’t I?”
“A while ago, yes.”
“I meant to bring it up again the weekend I came to the Berkshires, but with everything that happened, I forgot. Anyway, I’m thinking that if Sophie’s up for it and it’s something you’d like, you could come here on Tuesday and we could all drive to Maine the following day.”
“I’d love that.”
“Good because I—I don’t want to lose you, Kathryn.”
His words caught her off balance. “There’s no danger of that,” she said with a nervous laugh. Nervous because it wasn’t like Alan to express his feelings so openly, and because her own feelings were confused.
She was relieved he still wanted her, but at the same time, she felt guilty. Alan would be hurt if he found out how she’d carried on with Earl at the benefit. And she hadn’t told him the whole truth about why she was so upset. Garth’s violent end was disturbing in itself, but coming on the heels of what Millie had said about Earl, it was even more so.
He’s got this wild streak. All the Barker men do.
Kathryn went to the kitchen sink and splashed cold water on her face. She was done with the foolishness that had drawn her to Earl. She would lie low for the next few days, stay in close touch with Alan by phone, then on Tuesday drive to Boston and on to Maine with him. When she returned, things would be different. Earl would realize she had a serious relationship with Alan, and that her behavior on the dance floor was an aberration and not to be repeated.
Everything would be all right again.
Chapter 37
Kathryn’s resolve to lie low lasted until the next day, Sunday. Only a week ago, Earl had taken her up to the family cemetery. Now, he would be going there for his brother’s burial. Tragedy had struck his family again. It was only right that she should—what? Write a condolence note? Surely, there was no harm in that. She got paper and a pen but after several attempts gave up. Silly to send a note when he lived just up the hill. Yet she didn’t want to go to his trailer and say she was sorry in person. She’d telephone. That would be safe.
Safe but nervous-making, dialing his number and waiting while the phone rang and rang. When a machine finally picked up, she wasn’t sure whether she felt relief or disappointment. Maybe a bit of both. She left a message. “I’m really sorry about your brother. Also for the way I lit into you on the dance floor. I’ll explain another time. Please give my condolences to your family.” The words came out haltingly, and her voice sounded high-pitched and awkward, but at least it was done.
******
Tuesday morning, Kathryn was fortifying herself with a second cup of coffee in readiness for the drive to Boston when Gordon strolled into the kitchen.
She was so startled she almost spilled her coffee. She put her mug on the counter. “Why didn’t you knock? You must have seen my car in the driveway.”
He shrugged. “I forgot. And no harm was done. It’s not like I caught you and Earl going at it like he and my wife did in this very room.”
“If you think I—”
“Oh, don’t sound so shocked. I saw how you two danced at the benefit.”
The benefit again. Would she ever live that down?
Gordon settled his bulk onto a bar stool at the kitchen counter. “Have a cup of that myself.” He gestured at her mug.
“The pot’s almost empty, and I’m about to leave for a few days.” He had his nerve: barging in unannounced, insulting her and then expecting her to wait on him.
“I’m going away myself,” Gordon volunteered. “To spend Thanksgiving with my family in North Carolina. But first I need to go through the attic again, and before I do, I’d like a cup of coffee.”
“There’s a can in the refrigerator.”
“You mean you don’t grind your own beans?” He sounded incredulous.
“Too much trouble.”
“I’ll switch to tea then.”
She pointed at a cupboard. “Bags okay?”
“In that case, I’ll have water.”
She put a glass on the counter. “Help yourself.” She expected him to request mineral water, which she didn’t have either. Instead, Gordon got up reluctantly, filled the glass at the tap and took a long drink. “Almost as good as the water in Les Baux.”
“That’s where your house is?”
“Yes. It’s a lovely old town that dates back to the Romans. Do you know Provence?”
“Only from books.”
“You’ve read Peter Mayle then? He doesn’t do the place justice. You really ought to see it yourself.” When she didn’t respond, Gordon went on, “Getting back to the benefit—”
“Please,” Kathryn protested, “Enough’s been said about that already.”
“Au contraire,” Gordon said. “When I saw you and Earl dancing, it brought back painful memories of my wife and him. That’s why I intervened.” He paused to brush a piece of lint from his pants. “It was like a sickness with Diana. A sexual addiction. I tried to get her into a treatment program. She wouldn’t hear of it, of course. Went right on carrying on with Earl.”
“Did you consider divorce?�
��
“No. Despite all the pain she caused me, I loved Diana. She needed me, too. I was her anchor, her support, the person she came back to when she’d alienated everyone else.”
Kathryn found it hard to imagine this big, lazy man being anyone’s anchor and support. But maybe he possessed reserves of strength she wasn’t aware of.
“My wife made many enemies here,” Gordon continued. “That made things extremely difficult while she was alive. Even now, six years after her death . . .” He left the sentence unfinished.
“You found her defaced wedding picture?”
“Yes. Awful thing to do. Really upset me.”
If the wedding picture was so important to you, why did you leave it behind?
“That’s not all.” Gordon studied the tassels on his loafers, as if trying to decide whether they needed re-tying.
“What?”
Gordon’s gaze returned to her. “My wife had so many enemies that any one of them could have wrecked her wedding picture, just as any one of them could have killed her.”
His words sent shock waves through her. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter to steady herself. “You don’t think Brian Russo shot her?”
“I don’t know. I’ve often wondered if that boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time, if he got in someone else’s way.”
Her grip tightened on the counter. “Who do you think it could have been?”
“Well, Garth was mad at her for refusing to let him hunt on her land, and Earl was her lover. And a jealous lover at that, I might add.”
She might have known he’d single out Garth and Earl. Earl especially. Yet his calling Earl a jealous lover troubled her. Millie had said the same thing. Crazy-jealous was how she’d put it. Still, Earl’s being a jealous lover didn’t make him a murderer. Not when he seemed devastated by Diana’s death.
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