Pages of the Past (Bellingwood Book 9)

by Muir, Diane Greenwood

  The singing stopped and was replaced by a hideous giggle. "I wanted to help. Here, I'm washing my hands now." The faucet turned on and Beryl opened the door. "Lydia. Are you down here to play with us too?"

  Lydia grabbed Beryl's arm and pulled her out of the bathroom. "Get out. There's a line!" She winked at Polly and slipped past them and shut the door behind her.

  "Hey!" Polly said. "Not fair."

  "I might be old, but I'm wily," Lydia said. "You're too trusting."

  "What is going on down here?" Sylvie asked, standing on the bottom step. Andy was right behind her.

  "We're sorry," Beryl said. "Did we wake you up? It's Polly's fault."

  Lydia opened the bathroom door. The faucet was still running and Polly grabbed her hand, tugged her out, ran in and shut the door.

  "It's not my fault," she called out. "I just wanted to know what time it was."

  "It's four thirty," Sylvie said. "Is everyone as messed up as I am?"

  Polly remembered to wash her hands and turned off the faucet and then went back into the hallway where everyone was standing. "Were you all waiting for me? That's so nice."

  "Is anybody hungry?" Andy asked.

  Lydia nodded. "I could eat."

  "I kind of remember cleaning things up in the kitchen," Sylvie said. "But I'm afraid to look." She flipped on the light in the hallway and they wandered into the kitchen.

  Food had been put away and plates had been stacked in the sink. "See, we weren't so bad," Andy said.

  "You're the one who made us do this," Beryl accused. "You wouldn't let us go to sleep until we picked up. And there was Sylvie sleeping on the table."

  Sylvie shook her head. "I got hammered. I have never, ever done that before."

  "Do you have eggs?" Lydia opened the refrigerator and then quickly closed the door. "Okay, that wine sauce wasn't covered and it's making me ill."

  Polly was arranging the wine bottles on the counter. "There are eleven empty bottles here," she said and pointed around the room at each of them. "There are five of us."

  "We're old enough to know better." Lydia was opening cupboard doors.

  "What do you need?" Sylvie asked.

  "Glasses. I need water. And do you have aspirin?"

  "Polly the aspirin is in the bathroom cupboard. Can you get it?"

  Polly nodded and left the room. She came back with a bottle, trying to get it open. "This is child proof. Since you all are older than me, one of you should open it."

  Andy finally took the bottle and popped the top off. The five of them stood in the kitchen, leaning on counters while they each took a couple of aspirin and slugged down a full glass of water. Beryl was filling hers again when Lydia started to laugh.

  "What's so funny?" Polly asked.

  "Look at us. Just look at us. If anyone else in the entire world saw us right now, they wouldn't believe it. We got smashed last night and then kicked Sylvie's boys out of their own beds on a school night so we could have a drunken slumber party. Who does this?"

  "Apparently we do," Sylvie said. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Jason and Andrew, though."

  Polly nodded. "It would have been fun listening to Eliseo try to explain it. He was so funny when he saw us. The poor man paced back and forth, wanting desperately to get out of here with the boys and trying to figure out how to take care of us." She and Lydia were laughing hard at this point.

  "You begged Henry!" Beryl said. "The look on his face was priceless!" She started laughing so hard, she squatted down on her knees and then sprawled her legs in front of her on the floor. The rest of them sat with her as they howled with laughter.

  "I'm so glad I peed," Andy said, causing another round of uncontrollable laughing.

  "I don't want to go home," Lydia said in the middle of it.

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  "I've had such a wonderful night. I haven't been this relaxed in a long time. Thank you for taking care of me." Her face screwed up and tears began flowing from her eyes. "This has just been the worst new year and I don't know when it's going to get better."

  Beryl scooted close to her on one side and Sylvie slid over to sit on her other side. Andy and Polly both moved in so they were all touching her.

  "I don't know what to do anymore," she said through her tears. "I'm tired of fighting. I just want to know if it's worth it."

  "It is, honey. It is," Beryl said. "Whatever he's going through, he'll figure it out and then things will go back to normal. I promise."

  "But what if they don't? What if he just pulls so far away from me we can't ever find our way back again?"

  "That isn't going to happen sweetie," Polly said. "We'll wear him down."

  They sat in a huddle on Sylvie's kitchen floor while Lydia cried. When she was finished, she patted Sylvie's knee. "Maybe we need more sleep."

  "No food?" Beryl asked.

  "Are you really hungry?"

  "No, but if you were going to cook, I was going to eat." Beryl held her hand out to Polly. "Will you pull me up again? I can't believe I'm back on the floor."

  Polly stood up and helped Beryl stand, then one by one they were all upright.

  "Let's try to get some more sleep," Andy said. "We'll help you clean in the morning, Sylvie."

  "I want those empty bottles gone before Jason and Andrew see them. It's bad enough that they think I was drinking. I don't want them to know how bad it really was."

  Beryl picked two of them up. "I'm going to have a chat with those boys at the winery. If they're going to make such good wine, they can't be giving it to you for free. That's called feeding an addiction."

  "I believe they thought I'd use them as gifts or maybe I might spread their use out across, oh, I don't know, a year or so," Sylvie said. "Who would have thought we could drink that much."

  "Everybody scoot," Lydia said, making shooing motions. "Back to your beds. Whoever wakes up first starts the coffee and deals with that wine sauce in the refrigerator."

  When Polly and Beryl were alone in the living room again, Polly sat down on the air bed.

  "What are you doing? That's my bed."

  "Only because I didn't know what I was doing. You take the sofa. It's comfortable and I won't have to worry about you falling on your butt in the morning."

  "You're a sweet girl, Polly Giller. No matter what they say about you downtown."

  "What do they say?"

  "That you're a sweet girl, of course. Turn off that light, would you? I'd probably crack my shin on this heavy table if I had to do it."

  Polly flipped off the overhead light and swiped her phone open and to the flashlight app as she made her way back to the air bed. She put her head on the pillow and closed the phone.

  "What are we going to do about our girl?" Beryl asked quietly.

  "I don't know. I talked to Aaron the other day at the diner. He was trapped and I sat down with him."

  "What did he say?"

  "That he couldn't talk about it. He's as miserable as Lydia. I wanted to be mad at him, but Beryl, he's a wreck."

  "He should be. What a jerk. How could you treat that wonderful woman so badly and not be a wreck?"

  "There's something else going on."

  "It better not be another woman."

  "I don't think so. He was upset that I would even think that."

  "Good. I'd take a shotgun to his nuts if he did that."

  Polly chuckled. She was sure that if Beryl got angry enough, that might actually happen.

  "Don't think I wouldn't."

  "I know."

  "I love that man, but he's gone too far this time."

  "It's pretty bad, but I'd like to get the whole story before I start calling for tar and feathers."

  "If only he would tell someone what that story is."

  "You're right."

  "Of course I'm right. Now quit talking to me and go to sleep. Lydia will probably be down here at six thirty in the morning making all sorts of noise."

  "Good ni
ght, Beryl."

  "Good night, sweet Polly. You know I love you, right?"

  Polly smiled to herself. Every night she went to sleep after exchanging those words with Henry. She couldn't imagine not hearing them. But Beryl didn't get to hear them every night.

  "I love you too, Beryl. You're a wonderful woman."

  "Now, shhh."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "Up you go, sweetums."

  Polly knew it was Henry's voice and struggled to come awake.

  "Would you like some lunch?" he asked.

  "Huh? What time is it?"

  "It's two o'clock. I thought you might want to take time to eat and take a shower before the kids showed up after school."

  "I've slept a lot today."

  "Yeah. Nice work if you can get it."

  "Is Sylvie downstairs? I can't believe we did that to her. And she's the only one of us that has to work today."

  "She's here. She looks pretty rugged, but at least she's upright."

  Polly pulled her legs out from between two cats and sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm pathetic."

  "Yes. Yes you are."

  "We are never going to speak of last night again, deal?"

  "No you don't. You can't make me do that. I've never been quite that entertained."

  "You want entertainment, you should have been there for the rest of the night."

  "That might have been too much for my poor, innocent ears."

  "Yeah. Whatever." Polly stood up and when she wobbled, Henry grabbed her arm.

  "Are you going to be okay?"

  "I just need a shower. What did you bring me for food?"

  "Ice cream."

  "That sounds good. Anything else?"

  "I asked Lucy at the diner what would make a good hangover meal..."

  "You did not." Polly put her hand on the door frame into the bathroom and turned to glare at him.

  "She said you needed to rehydrate."

  "Oh, good heavens, you did."

  "There's a big salad out here for you."

  Polly went in to the bathroom and turned on the shower. "That sounds wonderful. I'll get cleaned up. Did you see Stephanie when you went to the convenience store to get ice cream?"

  "No, she's not there any longer. I thought you knew that."

  "I figured she had two weeks."

  "Honey, she's downstairs working."

  Polly poked her head out of the bathroom. "She's what?"

  "Downstairs. They let her go when she told them she was quitting, so Jeff brought her right in."

  "Wow. I have one bad night and the world changes around me. Are you leaving to go back to work or do you get to stay?"

  "I wanted to make sure you were alive, but I have to go back. While you're in the shower, I'll take the dogs outside."

  "Thank you." Polly stepped into the shower, stood under the hot water and moaned. "Yeah. That's the good stuff," she said. After the hot water loosened her muscles, she scrubbed herself clean and stepped back out.

  They had gotten up at seven thirty to Lydia poking around in the kitchen. No one could believe she was so alert. Even worse than Lydia was Andy, who came downstairs a few minutes later, completely fresh and alive. She'd had the least to drink and said that she didn't get hangovers very often. That hadn't gone over well with Beryl, who could barely move. She'd stuck her hand out for a mug of coffee and then flopped into one of the kitchen chairs and watched while Lydia and Andy cleaned the kitchen.

  When Sylvie came down, they made toast and had cereal, and then the five women tore through the house, cleaning and organizing as fast as they could.

  Polly was home by nine thirty, took the dogs outside and called Henry to let him know where she was. As soon as that call was finished, she crawled into bed and fell back to sleep. She felt much better now - ready to take on the world.

  Henry came back in with Han and Obiwan, who ran over to Polly to see if there was anything she wanted to share with them from her salad.

  "Ken Wallers is downstairs in the office," Henry said.

  "I wonder what's up."

  "He was talking to Jeff and Stephanie."

  "Oh no. There couldn't be something wrong with her on the first day of work, could there? Hopefully this doesn't have anything to do with the convenience store."

  "I don't know."

  "Do you think I should check it out?"

  "It's your business. If the police show up, you should probably know why."

  "You're right. If I hadn't been sleeping, I'd have been downstairs anyway." She jumped up from the table and glanced back and forth from the dogs to the salad. "Yeah. I don't trust you two." She put the salad in the refrigerator and gave Henry a kiss. "Are you heading back to work?"

  "I think so. Will you call and tell me what's going on?"

  "Absolutely." She kissed him again, this time much more slowly. "You know. I missed you last night."

  "I missed you too. It was strange being in bed by myself with all those animals."

  "Thank you for taking care of me today."

  "This? This was no big deal. But I do want the rest of the stories from last night. Promise?"

  Polly thought back to the fun they'd had. "I promise. Beryl fell out of bed. It was awesome. You'll laugh and laugh."

  He headed for the back door and Polly went out their front door and down the steps. No one was in the front office when she turned the corner, but she went in and checked Jeff's office. The conference room door was closed and she softly tapped on it and then opened it.

  Jeff was sitting beside Stephanie, whose eyes were red from crying. Ken Wallers was across the table.

  "What's going on?" Polly asked.

  Ken gestured to the seat next to him, "Come in and sit down, Polly."

  "Is Stephanie okay? Is she in trouble?"

  "She isn't in any trouble," Jeff said, patting the girl's hand. "But she's not okay either."

  "This is a terrible way to start a new job," Stephanie said, trying to stop her tears. "I'm so sorry."

  "Will someone tell me what has happened?"

  Ken said plainly, "Stephanie's mother has been killed."

  "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry!" Polly said. "Do you need to go home for the funeral?"

  Stephanie gulped back sobs. "No. I'm not going back there. Ever."

  Polly looked at her and then at Ken. "You said she had been killed. Do they know who did it?"

  Ken glanced over at Stephanie as if for permission and when she nodded, he said. "Stephanie's father."

  "Oh," Polly's voice broke and she jumped up out of her chair and ran around the table to gather Stephanie into her arms. "I hope he dies a terrible death in prison. He deserves it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's why I left and came here with Kayla. We ran away. But Mom told us to go. She made us leave."

  Polly was certain she didn't want to hear the rest of this story. It was going to be appalling. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  The girl fell into Polly's arms, sobbing and shaking her head.

  "What do we need to do?" Polly asked Ken.

  "Nothing right now. It was very clearly murder at his hand," he said. "Neighbors heard screaming and yelling and called the police. When they arrived, he was still sitting over her, the knife in his hand. He said that she had attacked him and tried to play it off as self-defense, but he has a long history of abuse. He's been arrested several times for battery and the police came into that home quite often."

  He said quietly, "Records show that you called several times when you were younger and then again just before you left."

  "He raped me over and over," Stephanie said quietly, her face still buried in Polly's chest. "I tried to call the police in the beginning, but Mom couldn't handle it. Then I tried to call when he was starting to look at Kayla. That's when I told Mom that we were leaving and I wasn't telling her where we were going so he wouldn't come looking for us."

  "They never filed a missing persons report on you," Ken said.
>
  "How did you find out about this?" Polly asked him. "I would have thought that local news, wherever it was, wouldn't have made it this far."

  "One person knew," Stephanie said. "But after I called to tell her that we were here in Bellingwood and safe, we never talked again. I didn't tell her what my address was or give her my phone number. I didn't want her to have to lie."

  "Who was that?"

  "A neighbor a couple of doors down - Mrs. Jennings. She was probably the one that called the police. She knew that he hit Mom but I never told her what he was doing to me."

  "I suspect she knew," Ken said. "She talked to the police department last night and told them where you were. She thought you'd want to know that he was finally in jail and if you wanted to come home, you could."

  "I'm never going back there."

  "Is there anything in the house that you want?" Polly asked.

  "No." Stephanie spat the word out. "He owned everything in that house and always made sure we knew it."

  Ken spoke up. "Someone from that police force might need to talk to you. Especially if your father insists that he killed her in self-defense."

  "Did they see how big he is and how little she is? Even if she did try to kill him because she'd had enough, he could have controlled her until the cops got there. He just lost control all over again and this time it went too far. I was always worried that he'd kill her someday, but I was afraid I'd still be in the house and then I would never be able to get away. And I wasn't leaving without Kayla."

  "Oh, Stephanie," Polly said again.

  Stephanie started to cry again. "Mom sacrificed her life so me and Kayla could get out of there. She knew he'd hurt her bad when we left, but she told us to go anyway. She gave me some money and told me that I was supposed to find a small town. Not a big town or a city. But a small town because people would take care of us."

  "How long have you been here?" Polly asked

  "Just after that big tornado last summer. We lived in a wrecked home until I had enough money to rent that trailer."

  "And no one knew?"

  "One lady knows. She helps us with food sometimes and she got some clothes so Kayla could start school. Then I told her that I didn't want any more help. I had to do this by myself. I wasn't ever going to rely on anyone again."

  "Who is it that knows?" Polly was sure she knew already, but needed confirmation.