“I think that’s just an excuse, Jordan. Are you interested or aren’t you?”
Jordan hated this kind of scene. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt her feelings. In fact, it wasn’t anything she had or hadn’t done. He couldn’t explain it to her. He did not want to sit up all night with her, or hold her till dawn. He didn’t see some depth in her eyes that made him want to live there. Maybe you only felt that way once in your life. Maybe you had to be young and innocent to feel it. He didn’t know. It didn’t matter. How cruel was she going to force him to be? he wondered. His stomach began to churn.
“I’ve heard about you,” she said abruptly, standing up. “The word is out on you. You’re conceited and hung up and no woman is good enough for you.”
Jordan wondered briefly where she had heard that. But he didn’t want to encourage this conversation, so he did not try to defend himself.
“Anyway, that’s your problem,” she said. “I didn’t spend five years in therapy so some cowboy could ride roughshod over my self-esteem.” She pulled her sunglasses out of her handbag and marched to the door. “When you get lonely enough, and I mean, really lonely— don’t call me.”
Jordan sighed. “I’m sorry, Amanda. You’re right. It is my problem. There’s no reason to keep on hurting you.”
Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes, and she quickly put on the sunglasses. “Hurting me?” she said hoarsely. “What about you? God damn it, Jordan, you don’t even try.” Jordan looked down and away from her. Amanda passed him and stepped out into the yellowed hallway. He felt an intense relief when she was actually out in the corridor.
Amanda shook her head. “Surely you could afford something better than this,” she said coldly.
Jordan shrugged and gave her a wan smile. “I like it here.”
“I think they call it ‘stuck,’ ” she said archly. “I won’t miss this dismal place.” She clattered down the hall on the cracked linoleum floor. He watched her go. Once she was gone he closed the door and leaned against it. In the quiet of the empty apartment his thoughts were free to roam. There was no one to chide him as his mind drifted home again to Felton, to Michele, to Lillie, and to all that he had lost.
Chapter 13
“WHERE WERE YOU?” LILLIE DEMANDED the moment Grayson walked in the door. “You were supposed to meet Allene.”
Grayson looked surprised and then he grimaced guiltily. “That’s right,” he said. “I forgot. Don’t look so freaked out, Mom.”
“I’m sorry,” Lillie said lamely. “I was just…worried about you.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Grayson said. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“Supper’s fixed,” she said. “Wake your father.”
The three of them sat down to eat in silence. Lillie reported to Grayson about Allene’s visit, and he replied that he would call her later. The silence fell again over the table and Lillie felt somehow responsible. She had the sense that Pink and Grayson might be talking if she weren’t there. She turned to Pink and asked him what was wrong with his day. All Pink would say was that he was never going to be able to sell the Millraney place. Grayson’s head jerked up at those words and he stared at his father, but Pink just kept on eating.
“Grayson, what’s that look for?” Lillie asked idly.
Grayson looked offended, as if she had been trying to invade his privacy. “Nothing,” he said.
“I see,” Lillie replied, and did not bother to try to start another conversation. After supper Grayson went to his room, and Pink settled in the living room while Lillie did the dishes. She stood at the sink, elbow-deep in soapy water, and remembered how she had almost enjoyed doing the dishes when Michele was alive. That was kind of a good time of day for them, when they would catch up on the day, on the things “the boys” wouldn’t be interested in. They would talk over their plans for the next day, reminding one another of what had to be done, what they were looking forward to. You miss sharing those little things, Lillie thought. You miss having someone be interested.
She was almost finished with the dishes when she heard the front doorbell ring once and then, after a while, ring again. Drying her hands, she went out to the living room, ready to demand of Pink why he had just let it ring. Pink was slumped in his chair, the newspaper collapsed in his lap, a bottle of bourbon and an empty glass beside him. Drinking made him sleepy, especially after supper. These days, falling asleep in his chair was his regular pattern. Lillie hoped it was only temporary, until the worst of his grief had passed. He was very difficult to get along with when he had had a few. She shook his shoulder as she headed for the door. Pink awoke and looked at her through a fog.
Lillie turned on the porch light and opened the door. Betty Starnes, Allene’s mother, stood in the arc of light, her eyes dark with worry.
Before Lillie could greet her, Betty said, “Allene didn’t come home tonight. Is she here with Grayson?”
Lillie invited her in. “No, no, she’s not. She was here earlier looking for Gray, but then she left.”
“She always tells us where she’s going,” said Betty. “She hasn’t even called. Bill is home waiting, in case she calls, but I had to come out looking for her. I couldn’t just sit there.”
“Pink,” said Lillie. “Go get Grayson, will you? Maybe he knows where Allene is.” She turned back to the distraught ^other. “Why don’t you sit down? Can I get you something to drink? Some tea, maybe?”
Betty shook her head. “I couldn’t. My stomach is in a knot.”
“I know,” said Lillie. “But we’ll find her. Don’t worry.”
“If anything happened to her…” Betty said, shaking her head. Her reddish-blond eyelashes were strung with tears, and her freckled face was drawn and splotchy.
Lillie squeezed the woman’s cold hands. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
At that moment Grayson followed his father into the room. “Hello, Mrs. Starnes,” he said politely.
“Hello, Grayson. I’m looking for Allene. Do you know where she might be?”
Gray shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t seen her since study hall this afternoon.”
Betty let out a groan. “Oh, God. I’ve tried her other friends. You know what I’m thinking.”
Lillie shuddered, but her voice was steady. “Don’t even think it.”
“I can’t help it,” Betty cried. “There’s someone in this town who’s crazy. He’s still running around loose. He did it to your little girl…” She started to sob.
Lillie grasped her firmly around the shoulder. “Take it easy,” she said in a voice that was calmer than she felt. “There’s some good explanation. Come on. I’ll help you look for her.”
“Do you think I should call the sheriff?” Betty asked.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up safe and sound,” Pink said sympathetically.
“Do you want me to help look?” Grayson asked.
“You stay and finish your homework,” said Lillie. “Gray, Allene was all upset when she came here today. Do you know what that was all about? Did you two have a fight or something?”
“No,” said Gray, shaking his head. “It beats me.”
“Where will you look?” Pink asked.
The two women looked at one another gravely. “We have to go down there by the bridge,” said Betty. “Just in case.”
“I don’t want you going down there, Lillie,” said Pink. “It’s too much for you to have to be there. I’ll go.” He went to the hall closet and pulled out a jacket.
“I can go by myself,” said Betty.
“Never you mind,” Pink said. “That’s what friends are for.”
Pink picked up his car keys off the mantel and gestured toward the door. Lillie frowned at her husband. “Are you okay to drive?’*
“Don’t be a nag,” said Pink. “I know my own limits.”
At that moment the phone rang.
“That could be Bill,” said Betty, her eyes widening.
Lillie picked up the phon
e and spoke briefly to the person on the other end. When she turned back to face Pink and Betty, her color was ashen.
“What?” Betty whimpered.
“That was Bill. We have to get to the hospital. They found Allene unconscious in the balcony of the Felton movie theater.”
“No,” cried the girl’s mother.
“Apparently she took a bottle of Sleep-Eze or one of those. They’re pumping her stomach right now. Don’t panic. She’s going to be all right.”
“Oh, my God,” cried Betty. “Oh, my God.”
“Come on,” Pink said. “I’ll drive.”
When they reached the hospital they found Bill Starnes pacing the waiting area outside the emergency room. He was putting out a cigarette in a standing ashtray when they came in.
Betty rushed to her husband’s arms and he patted her back soothingly. “I just saw the doctor,” he said. “She’s okay.”
Betty began to weep and Lillie felt tears rush to her own eyes.
“Why?” Betty asked. “Why would she do this? She always seemed so happy.”
“I don’t know,” Bill said grimly. “We’re going to have to have a serious talk when she comes out of it.”
At that a nurse emerged from the emergency room and looked at Bill and Betty. “Are you the parents?” she asked. Betty nodded.
“You can see her soon. We’re moving her up to a regular room. We just want to watch her for a day or two, and make sure there are no ill effects. But you can see her for a few minutes.”
Betty thanked the nurse and then turned to Lillie. “You’ve been so good. Thank you.”
Lillie nodded and then glanced at Pink and Grayson. “We’ll be going now,” she said. “If we can help in any way, please call.”
“I will,” said Betty, kissing her cheek.
“Tell Allene I said hi,” Grayson said weakly.
“I will, dear.” Betty returned to her husband.
Lillie trailed behind Pink and Grayson on their way to the parking lot. Before they reached the car Lillie called out to Gray. He turned to look at her. His wheat-blond hair glowed silvery in the harsh phosphorescent lamps that illuminated the lot.
“Grayson, where were you this afternoon?” she said. “Who were you with?”
“Mom, I told you I didn’t see her.”
“Were you with another girl?”
“Okay,” said Grayson. “Okay. I was with another girl. I didn’t know that was a crime in Cress County.”
“Grayson, don’t be fresh,” Lillie exclaimed. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened. She was crying her heart out when she came by. Maybe that was why.”
“So now it’s my fault that she ate a bottle of pills. I don’t believe this.”
“I didn’t say that,” Lillie insisted.
Grayson’s eyes flashed angrily. “Are you blaming me for what she did? I want to know. Are you saying it’s my fault she tried to kill herself?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Pink said grumpily.
“Grayson,” said Lillie, “I know it’s not your fault. Of course not. But she is your girlfriend. And you did break a date with her to go off with someone else.”
“Look, Mom,” Grayson said. “It’s a free country. I’m not married to Allene.” After a moment he added, “I’m sorry she did it, all right? How was I supposed to know she’d get so upset?”
Lillie shivered in the nighttime chill. Allene had done this out of anguish over Grayson. She felt sure of it. But when she looked into her son’s eyes she saw an unsettling truth there. Allene’s dramatic gesture had been in vain. This new girl must be something special. Because when it came to Allene, he didn’t care at all.
It was late when they got home and much later still by the time Lillie went to bed. The whole incident made her nerves feel raw again. She kept thinking of Allene, huddled on the porch rocker in tears, and how she had not realized how close the girl was to doing something drastic. Lillie could not help wondering if she might have prevented it, if she had tried a little harder to talk to Allene. If she hadn’t been so numbed by her own problems.
Pink was asleep when she finally climbed quietly into the bed beside him. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just been rescued from drowning. She lay still beside him, trying to force herself to relax, but her mind continued to race.
She understood the fierceness of young passions. In the darkness, as the night ticked slowly by, she remembered her own broken heart when Jordan left her, left town, left their sick baby, with only a brief note of explanation. She flushed hotly, lying there in her bed, when she remembered the feelings of embarrassment, of loss, of unbearable betrayal, and that was seventeen years ago. To her surprise, and irritation, she felt tears pricking her eyelids.
This is stupid, she thought, wiping them away. But she could still picture his young face and recall how once she had believed in him, as if his dark eyes held some answer she had sought all her short life. Pink began to wheeze and rolled over in his sleep, throwing an arm out across her. She looked over at him. He had been right there when Jordan left. In fact, he had been there for quite some time, but she had not seen him, so in love was she with her teenage husband.
Lillie shifted under the weight of his arm, but Pink only moved closer. She edged up under the covers so that the weight was off her chest, so she could breathe.
In the quiet of the night she ruminated on those terrible days when Jordan first left. She had not been much older than Allene at the time. Everyone told her that he wasn’t worth crying over, that she had her whole life ahead of her. No one seemed to understand what she felt. I could have killed myself then, she thought. I can understand it. If it hadn’t been for Michele…There was no telling what that kind of pain could make you do.
The thought of Michele brought its own painful ache again, and Lillie reminded herself that sleep was the only remedy, however fleeting. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift, to let the numbness come.
All of a sudden she started and was awake, her eyes wide in the darkness. Is it possible? she wondered. She sat up in bed, clutching the sheet tightly in her hands, and tried to think clearly. Could it be that her Michele had broken someone’s heart? Had made him mad enough to kill her? She was still a virgin, according to the coroner’s report, so no one was thinking about sex as a motive. But when you were young like that, passions ran so high, despite the lack of experience. Maybe someone had loved her. Maybe she had wounded him without even being aware of it. Lillie felt her own heart pounding at the idea, as if she might have stumbled over some answer there in the darkness. She wanted to wake Pink, to say it to him, but she knew instinctively that he would be angry to be awakened just to hear some suspicion she had dreamed up in the night. She forced herself to lie back against the pillow. She lay awake, staring, for a long time. When she finally slept, her dreams tormented her.
Chapter 14
IN THE MORNING LIGHT, Lillie cautiously examined her theory again. She thought about it as she made the beds and cleaned up the kitchen. It still made sense to her.
As far as she knew, there were no boyfriends in Michele’s life. To her mother, she had been like a little girl. But she was surely old enough to have experienced love, and although they shared many problems, Michele did have a secretive, reflective side.
Lillie had not been able to go into Michele’s room since the murder. Brenda had gone in and picked out the clothes that Lillie described to her for the funeral. The sheriff had searched the room, and Lillie had watched him carry out various papers and objects, but she had stayed outside in the hall. Thinking about it now, Lillie realized that the sheriff might have made the same assumptions.
He had never put the idea into words for them, but he was probably thinking that way. That’s what he was searching for in Michele’s room. Some clue to a boyfriend’s identity.
But, Lillie reasoned, if there was some clue in there, it might not be apparent to the sheriff. It might well be something that only a mother would
recognize. After all, who would know better than she what was normal for Michele?
She knew she was going to have to go into the room and look, to satisfy herself. But she hesitated on the threshold, filled with dread. Only the hope for some kind of answer enabled her to put her hand on the doorknob and turn it.
Lillie opened the door to the room and stepped inside. The look, the scent, and everything about it nearly knocked the wind out of her. The rose-pink dress still hung on the closet door. Trembling, she sat down on the bed and smoothed the cover with her hand as she let the memories break over her. The finality, the cruelty, the unfairness of it, battered her heart, but she did not run. After a while she felt more composed. She reminded herself that she was here to find something, although she wasn’t sure what that something was.
Unlike many girls her age, Michele had no scrapbooks, and she did not keep a diary. Perhaps, Lillie thought, because a diary was for frivolous things, and Michele’s life had too many days of needles in her arms and hospital rooms and green-masked faces hovering above her. Perhaps she knew she would never want to read about that again. When she was writing, it was always her school-work. She had to make such an effort to keep up.
Gently Lillie picked up the schoolbooks from the desk and leafed through them. Lillie could picture Michele, the diligent student to whom nothing came easily, bent over them with a furrowed brow. Lillie turned the pages in her notebook. Michele had been an exceptionally neat person. There were no doodles on the page, no silly drawings, no indication of the impatience, the inattention of students. Lillie put down the notebook and picked up the student yearbook. The class that graduated this June should have been Michele’s. She had been held back because of her long absences. Still, she had bought the yearbook, and many of her old classmates had signed it. There was a friendly impersonality to the inscriptions. To a sweet kid. To a nice girl. Lots of luck, remember homeroom. Remember gym.
Nowhere did it say Remember our great date, the fun party, the school dance. She had missed it all. It had all been shimmering ahead of her when some maniac struck her down.
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