No Turning Back

by Nancy Bush

  Could there be two in Woodside?

  “No way,” he whispered, suddenly alarmed. Was Tawny seeing a shrink, too? What was wrong?

  The shrink lady could be here for Tawny’s mom, he reasoned. That made more sense.

  Backing up, Jesse hightailed it the rest of the way to Brad’s house. He could hear angry screaming practically before he reached the edge of the property. Brad erupted from the front door in a rage, Brad’s mom on his heels.

  “Don’t bother coming home!” she yelled.

  “I won’t!”

  “I mean it, Brad. This is the last straw!”

  “I said I won’t!”

  “Jesse, talk some sense into him!” she cried upon spying him.

  Jesse waited, curiously uplifted by this scene of domestic turmoil. Made his own problems look better.

  “What the hell are you doin’ here?” Brad greeted him.

  “Wha’d you do?”

  “Nothin’.”

  Jesse snorted.

  “I called that girl in Texas.”

  “And?” Jesse couldn’t believe how turned on Brad had gotten over a girl he’d chanced to meet over spring vacation who lived in Austin, Texas. Brad had gone bonkers over her Southern drawl, but Jesse’d caught the looks she’d slyly sent him and had wondered what her real agenda was.

  “She was glad to hear from me,” Brad claimed defensively.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Brad looked about to argue some more, but then he shrugged. “I guess I sent her a few things that . . . I bought with Mom’s credit card.”

  “You swiped the card from your mom?”

  “I was gonna tell her, but she found out before I could.”

  “You’re such a jerk.” Jesse laughed. “How’re you gonna pay her back?”

  “I’ll get a job.” He shrugged, but Jesse knew his friend; beneath the attitude, Brad felt bad about it.

  “So, you’re out of the house for now.”

  Brad nodded.

  “Join the club.” They started walking back down the road to town. “Your shrink’s at Tawny’s. I saw the car.”

  “Really?” Brad eyed him intently. “I had an appointment today. I almost told her. I kinda hinted around, and she said we weren’t responsible for anything unless we did it ourselves.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe we oughtta tell.”

  Jesse considered. He’d gone to the police station today with a similar idea in mind. He’d wanted to talk to his father, but it had all gone to crap, just like always. Now, he ran his hands through his rain-soaked hair and drew a deep breath. His pulse beat light and fast. They could unload the truth and he could see Tawny.

  “You’d get to meet her,” Brad pressed. “She can tell you how nuts I am.”

  “Oh shut up. It’s just therapy because you smoke, drink, and lie.”

  “And steal.”

  “Let’s go to Tawny’s,” Jesse decided.

  * * *

  Liz sat cross-legged on the couch across from Kristy, who half-lay in an armchair and ottoman, dispirited and quiet, cuddling a cup of tea. For half an hour Liz had tried to make small talk with her friend to no avail. The music throbbing from somewhere down the hall suggested Tawny was in her room, but Liz had yet to see her.

  Delicately, Liz brought up the subject they’d both politely skirted. “What did the doctor say?”

  Kristy smiled wanly. “It’s not confirmed yet, but they think it could be . . .” She breathed deeply, sending a chill of premonition down Liz’s spine. “Ovarian cancer.”

  “Oh, Kristy.”

  “If it’s true, I’m having surgery as soon as the diagnosis comes through.”

  “Good, good.” Liz felt cold inside.

  “So, then I guess we just hope for the best.”

  Liz nodded, her throat constricted. Ovarian cancer. She couldn’t think. If that diagnosis were proved correct, Kristy’s life depended on what stage she was in. If caught early enough, people could survive, but if the cancer had progressed and spread . . .

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” Liz murmured. She wanted to comfort Kristy but felt awkward and incapable. Behavioral advice she dispensed with ease, but the ability to say the right words and offer crucial help at life-altering moments was an art Liz had yet to learn. It seemed to be almost genetic; you either possessed it or you didn’t. Now, feeling totally inadequate, she rose to her feet and gave her friend a self-conscious hug.

  “I find out for sure tomorrow,” Kristy said, “but they’re certain enough to start scheduling surgery already.”

  Liz squeezed her hand. “Have you told Tawny?”

  “Not yet. You’ll be there for her, won’t you? I don’t want her to be scared.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Go see her. She’s been waiting for you.”

  Like a sleepwalker, Liz found her way down the hall to Tawny’s room. Her mind ran in circles. Of course Kristy was going to be okay. These things didn’t happen to people you really knew.

  Of course they did. But not to Kristy!

  “Tawny?” Liz called in a voice she barely recognized as her own.

  “Hey!” Tawny answered above the noise. Abruptly, the song ended. “Come on in!”

  Gently, Liz pushed open the door. Tawny was flopped across her bed, thumbing through an old, dog-eared copy of People that sported Kurt Cobain’s picture on the front cover. Liz stared down at the picture, a pit in her stomach, her heart beating so hard it felt as if it might burst from her chest.

  “A friend gave this to me,” Tawny said, catching Liz’s gaze and closing the magazine so Cobain’s image was fixed in front of their eyes. “He changed music, y’know.”

  “I’ve never . . . listened to him.”

  “Really? You should. He’s dead now, though,” she added. “Killed himself.”

  “Yeah . . . I know.”

  Tawny glanced up, aptly named for the goldish color of her eyes. Maybe Guy had gotten it right after all, Liz thought. “Are you okay?” she asked, examining Liz carefully.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wanna listen to Nirvana: MTV Unplugged in New York?” She lithely scrambled from the bed, all legs and arms, and flipped a button on a CD player. “Why do you think he did it?” she asked as the music swelled loudly. “I mean, he had everything.”

  “I don’t know.” Liz sank onto the edge of the bed and gazed at Cobain’s picture. Unhappiness . . . illness . . . despair . . .

  “He was only twenty-seven.”

  “Only the good die young,” Liz murmured. She felt as if she were in a dream. Shaking herself, she added, “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

  “I’ve just sorta gotten into his music now. I sure wish I’d known about him way back when he was alive.” Tawny wrinkled her nose and stretched her arms over her head. Five foot five with shoulder-length light brown hair and a smile to light up billboards, she was currently immersed in fifteen-year-old melancholy, a large part of which was undoubtedly attributed to her concern over Kristy’s chronic illness.

  Don’t let it be ovarian cancer.

  “You want to go to a movie later?” Tawny asked.

  “Sure. What do you want to see?”

  “What do you want to see?”

  “Something funny. A comedy.”

  “Me too.”

  Tawny smiled and Liz gazed at her with a mixture of love, awe, and worry. Tawny was a lot like Liz at the same age, and it was both a pride and a thrill to watch her develop. Of course at fifteen, Liz had been more paranoid than Tawny, worrying to death over the heft of her thighs, the start of a pimple, what her friends thought of her, if a boy who wasn’t a geek would ever look at her . . . Tawny was tougher, maybe because she was more secure, maybe because her generation had forged her that way. Whatever the case, Liz’s own maternal instincts were on overload around her and she jubilated over Tawny’s accomplishments and sank to the bottom
of despair with her over her woes.

  They were only seventeen years apart as Liz had just turned thirty-two. Though Kristy was near Liz’s age, she sometimes seemed ten years older, almost a generation in itself, and lately Tawny had tended to turn to Liz before her own mother. Luckily, Liz, senses on alert, hadn’t perceived any friction from Kristy. Now, however, she suspected Kristy had been too self-absorbed in her health problems to notice.

  “What do you think’s wrong with Mom?” Tawny asked, her bare feet sliding into a pair of tan sandals. “I mean really.”

  “She said the doctors will let her know something definite tomorrow,” Liz answered.

  “Yeah, but what do you think?”

  “Let’s not speculate. Please?”

  Something in Liz’s tone must have penetrated because Tawny’s eyes searched hers for several long moments. Then she hunched her shoulders. “I just want her to get better.”

  “We all do.” Liz got to her feet, easing toward Tawny. But Tawny sidestepped her. That’s the way it was these days. Sometimes Tawny wrapped herself in Liz’s arms for comfort; sometimes she couldn’t bear the intimacy. It was a tough age, even for one as self-possessed as Tawny.

  “You ready for pizza?” Liz asked.

  “Yeah! We’ve even got salad in a bag.”

  Tawny skittered out of the room and Liz followed. Kristy sat in the armchair, her attention apparently on a late-afternoon television talk show. Tawny had pulled two bags of salad from the refrigerator and eaten two pieces of pizza double-quick, while Liz ate one and Kristy passed, when the doorbell rang. Tawny and Liz exchanged glances. Tawny shrugged, so Liz went to answer the door.

  “Brad!” she said in surprise.

  “Hey,” he responded uneasily, glancing to the young man beside him.

  The newcomer sported a hairstyle identical to Brad’s, but that’s where the similarity ended. Intense blue eyes peered out between brownish-blond strands of hair. A haunting familiarity struck some chord inside Liz. She gazed at him in unabashed curiosity and knew in an instant this had to be Brad’s friend Jesse.

  “We saw your car,” Brad admitted.

  “You’re here to talk to me?” Liz questioned. She couldn’t pull her gaze from Jesse, who regarded her right back with the same interest and intensity.

  “Yeah, well, we were kinda thinking that we should talk to you. And then we saw your car at Tawny’s. Hey . . .” Brad added, glancing over Liz’s shoulder to where Tawny had appeared.

  “Hey,” Tawny answered, looking from Brad to Jesse and back again.

  “So, Jesse and I cruised by,” he finished by way of introduction.

  Liz had lost Jesse’s attention to Tawny, but at the mention of his name, it reverted back to Liz. His gaze was frankly assessing and she realized he’d probably heard an awful lot about Brad’s new shrink. She’d heard a lot about him as well, but for some reason, even with all the tales Brad had told her about Jesse, she hadn’t expected to feel like she knew him so well.

  Not that his appearance was expected. If she’d thought about it at all, she would have thought he would look like Brad. Okay, the hair was the same length, but Brad’s was darker and thicker. Jesse’s was sun-streaked and straight and added to his overall look of insolence. He reminded her a little of a young Brad Pitt, and that reminded her of something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on at the moment.

  “You want to come in?” Tawny invited, glancing back worriedly toward her mother.

  Jesse and Brad hesitated. Liz realized they really had come to see her. She’d privately thought they’d used her as an excuse to see Tawny.

  “Let’s not bother Kristy,” Liz suggested, easing herself out the door. “I really want to hear what you have to say, Brad, but let’s take it outside.”

  The rain had rescinded to a wet mist. When Liz tried to close the door, she found Tawny on her heels. Deciding to let the boys choose if they wanted Tawny as an audience, Liz glanced at the sky. Dark, overcast, slate-gray clouds hovered ominously close.

  Tawny shivered.

  “You okay?” Jesse asked her, in a husky voice that sent a strange chill down Liz’s back.

  Something familiar . . . and dangerous.

  “Fine.” Tawny nodded.

  Brad and Jesse huddled beneath the eaves on one side; Liz and Tawny stood together about five feet away.

  “Would you like to go to my office?” Liz asked uncomfortably.

  Brad glanced to Jesse for direction. Jesse’s gaze flicked Tawny’s way. Tawny waited, a delicate frown forming on her brow, as if she couldn’t understand what in the world was going on. Liz could. Jesse had it bad for Tawny but was doing his damnedest not to show it.

  Then Jesse stared directly at Liz and said, “We’d like to show you something. Something in the woods.”

  That husky voice. “Something in the woods,” she repeated.

  “I tried to go to the police today, but that didn’t work, so we thought we’d show it to you.” His hands were in his pockets, then they were fidgeting, then they were shoved back in his pockets.

  “And this something is what you were worried about this morning?” Liz asked Brad.

  Brad nodded and added hurriedly, “But it’s not our fault. We just found it. That’s all.”

  “What is it?” Tawny whispered, picking up the vibes.

  Jesse slid her another look, weighing his answer. Liz would have preferred Tawny not be a part of this, but apparently, the boys welcomed her involvement. At least they weren’t telling her to get lost, like boys their age were wont to do if an invader entered their territory. No, the boys accepted Tawny as part of the package.

  “It’s a dead body,” Jesse suddenly admitted, his matter-of-fact delivery snapping Liz’s head around in surprise. In an oddly mature voice, he added, “Looks like somebody shot the guy full of holes and left him down by Hummingbird River. We thought you oughtta know . . .”

  Chapter Four

  It was the cold seeping into Liz’s shoes that woke her from the nightmare before her. Numbness had crept into every pore, and the tingle in her toes seemed just a part of the same surreal feeling. But like the sleepwalker she was, she awoke to an even eerier sense of displacement: The body before her was someone she recognized.

  She’d seen him on the street. Was that yesterday or the day before? He’d been hard to miss because of his height and bulk, and he’d been blathering on about something to a blond woman who couldn’t have looked more bored if she’d tried. They were outside a local watering hole: the Elbow Room. As Liz drove by, she could see the way he gestured and grinned, and at some level she’d concluded he was schmoozing this woman for all he was worth.

  And now he lay on his back amid wet leaves and sticks and dripping rain, eyes wide open, staring sightlessly up at her.

  Jesse’s tense breathing somewhere near her left ear penetrated her fogged brain. Her stomach revolted and she just managed to hold down her dinner. She half-turned, every movement in slow motion.

  “We didn’t do it,” Brad babbled again, eyes riveted on the body. He was farther back, behind Jesse, looking scared and panicky. White-faced, Tawny stood pressed against the trunk of a dirty pine. Liz’s gaze sought her frightened eyes, found them, and tried to silently offer comfort.

  “It’s okay,” Liz said.

  “He’s dead?” Jesse’s question came from his sixteen-year-old mind. He still hoped he hadn’t accidentally ventured into the real, adult world.

  “Yes.”

  “Somebody killed him.”

  Liz hesitated. “Yes.”

  A frigid drip of rain slid down her neck and she shivered. Huddled inside her coat, Tawny made a frightened sound. Before Liz could move, Jesse was beside Tawny, a tall, brooding presence who neither touched nor looked at her, but offered support nonetheless.

  Liz stated dully, “We’ve got to go to the police.”

  “No!” Jesse and Brad cried in unison.

  “I said we didn’t do it!” B
rad yelled. “They’ll think we did it! They’ll put us in jail!”

  “They’ll know you didn’t do it,” Liz tried to explain, but Brad was having none of it.

  “How?” he demanded. “They’ll take one look at us and say, ‘Get those goddamn losers!’ and we’ll be dead!”

  “You wouldn’t bring me to the body,” Liz pointed out.

  “We might.” This was from Jesse. “If we were really demented.”

  “You’re not really demented.” Liz stared at him openly, reading him so easily he would have been offended if he knew. She’d counseled dozens of kids just like him. Boys who thought their cool made them appear like men. Boys whose insides were so soft and insecure, their outsides were even colder and crustier, a defense mechanism that only worked half the time. “We’ll go to the station and I’ll explain—”

  “No,” Jesse cut her off harshly. “I’m not going.”

  “Me neither,” Brad responded.

  They both turned toward Tawny, who shuddered and hunched inside her anorak. Aching inside, Liz strode toward her. She wanted to hug her but wasn’t sure Tawny would accept her comfort in front of the boys. She knew for certain she should have fought harder to keep her from witnessing this body.

  Blame it on the fact that I don’t know how to be a mother, she berated herself. Blame it on the fact that I didn’t really believe Jesse’s story of a dead body.

  “Then I’ll go by myself,” she stated to the teenagers in general. “I’ll report it.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Tawny whispered, swallowing hard.

  Male pride surfaced in a gust of inhaled fury. “Oh, hell!” Jesse grated. “All right, I’ll go talk to them, but I want to go alone.” Brad looked relieved until Jesse added, “Me and Brad’ll report it.”

  “I think I should be there,” Liz argued.

  “’Cause you’re an adult?” Jesse shot back. “’Cause you’ll take care of the stupid teenagers?”

  “Look, you guys came to me—”

  “Well, that was a mistake, wasn’t it?” Jesse shook his long hair, then ran a hand through it. His mouth hardened in stubborn rebellion. “Brad and I’ll do it.”

  She was being outmanipulated by a master. The very personality type she encountered every day and saw through like glass. Her first instinct was to tell him where to get off; her second, the one she’d learned to listen to for her job, was to graciously give in.