Chapter 18
“OH, CHRIST,” PINK EXCLAIMED. He glanced guiltily at Lillie’s shocked expression and then he looked away, scowling. The stuffy office was dead silent. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. “I thought you were gone. Why the hell did you come back here?”
Sparks exploded in Lillie’s stomach, searing her from the inside out. She blinked at him, as if she could not get his face into focus. A face she knew. Thought she knew.
Pink pushed himself out of his chair and the chair swiveled back and banged into a filing cabinet. Lillie jumped and let out a cry. Pink, who had stalked over to the office door, to close it, turned on her.
“Spare me the hysterics, Lillie.” He sighed. “Just say what you’re going to say.”
“You were calling Tyler,” she said slowly. But it was almost a question, as if she still hoped she might have gotten it wrong.
“That’s right,” Pink said shortly.
“To warn him,” Lillie cried. “To warn him.”
“Yes,” said Pink. “That’s right.”
Lillie stepped right in front of him, so that he was forced to look directly at her. She spoke each word through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare give me some little one-word answers. You tell me what the hell is going on here. Now.”
Pink hunched his shoulders and grasped the back of his chair. “There’s a good reason, Lillie,” he said.
Lillie felt as if her breath were short, as if she could not spare even one unnecessary word. “What?”
Pink’s eyes searched the corners of his office.
“No lies, Pink,” Lillie cried. “Enough lies. I know that look. You’ve had it on and off for weeks but I thought I was imagining it.”
“All right,” he said, frowning at her. “All right. Shouldn’t we go home and talk? This is no place.”
“Tell me now,” she insisted. “Why did you call Tyler? He killed her, didn’t he? Have you lost your mind? Why were you calling him?”
Pink dropped wearily down into his chair and covered his pale, damp face with his hands. The phone began to ring on his desk and he started, then reached out and picked it up. Without a second’s hesitation, Lillie leaned over the desk, jerked the receiver from his hand, and slammed it back down on the hook. Pink looked up as if to protest, but she stared back at him, wild-eyed.
Pink shook his head. “Lillie, I don’t know how to tell you this. I hoped you’d never find out.” He laid his trembling hands out flat on the desk in front of him. His fingertips made dark splotches on the blotter. “Yes,” he said. “It’s true. You guessed right. He did kill her.”
It didn’t matter that she had guessed. That she had wondered and speculated and figured it out. The words from Pink’s lips stunned her as if the thought had never crossed her mind. She groped for a chair and sat down.
“You knew this?” she whispered.
“I’ve known all along.”
“And you never told. You bastard.”
“Lillie, when I tell you—” he pleaded.
“You bastard,” she spat at him. “You knew and you let him go? And now you…you were calling to warn him?”
Pink came around to where she sat and stood helplessly in front of her. “Lillie, listen to me. Hear me out.”
Lillie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “No, no, no.”
Pink leaned over and shook her. Her eyes seemed to roll open, dulled and doll-like. “Your own daughter,” Lillie murmured incredulously. “You lying bastard. There is no possible excuse.”
“First of all,” Pink declared, “it wasn’t like you think. It wasn’t a murder, really. It was more of an accident, I guess you’d say. They were horsing around. The way kids do. They’d been drinking.”
“Tyler, you mean.”
“I’m getting to that.”
“Michele didn’t drink.”
“She did. She had some. Michele was not perfect, you know,” Pink said defensively.
“I don’t believe my ears!” Lillie jumped up from the chair.
“Sit down. I’m trying to tell you—” Pink began.
“I can’t breathe. I think I’m going to be sick,” she cried. “This boy murders your daughter in cold blood and all you can say is that she was drinking?”
“Don’t make this worse than it is,” Pink said. “I told you. He’s just a kid. He didn’t mean to do it.”
“The coroner said she had been struck at least three severe blows to the base of her skull. Do you recall that, Pink?”
Pink drowned her out with his continuing explanation. “They were down by the bridge after the fair. They had some moonshine. And Tyler got drunk. You know what he’s like. He’s an alcoholic. He still had the baseball bat with him from the game. And Michele was teasing him. Just flirting, I guess, but she got him all worked up and he took a swing at her.
“Say it. He murdered her. He beat her head in.”
“It all happened in an instant,” Pink protested. “Before they even knew…”
“And you agreed to protect him?” Lillie cried. “Royce knows all this? And you went along with it? Are you crazy, Pink?”
“I had to,” Pink shouted back.
“You had to!”
“It was an accident,” Pink pleaded.
“Never, never,” said Lillie, kneading her hands unconsciously as if she were freezing to death. “Never.”
“I had to,” Pink repeated. Sweat had beaded up all over his face, and his forehead was knotted, as if he was in pain. “It was…you see, Grayson was there.”
Lillie stared at Pink. Her breath escaped her as if by a blow. She exhaled one word. “Grayson?”
“They were all three down there at the Arches,” Pink said hurriedly. “Grayson had a few drinks in him too. And that Tyler is like a bear. Grayson never had a chance to stop him.”
“Grayson?” she repeated. “Our Grayson?”
“Oh, Lillie, stop it. For chrissakes. The way you say it. As if he was responsible or something. I mean, it’s alcohol. I know it’s tragic, but these things happen with kids. It could have happened to anybody.”
Pink stopped and looked worriedly at his wife. “Lillie, you look awful,” he said. “I know it’s a shock. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” He reached out a hand to steady her. “Come on and sit down again, honey. You’re wobbling like your legs are going to give out on you there.”
Lillie snatched her arm away from him. He was right. For a moment she had teetered, craving oblivion to release her, but she was too angry to give way. “Don’t you touch me,” she growled at him. “Don’t you dare.”
“I knew it,” said Pink. “This is what I was afraid of.”
“Let me make sure I understand this,” she said, forming each word as if her mouth were numb. “Tyler Ansley killed my daughter while Grayson stood by and watched it happen. And you decided not to tell me—just to let them get away with it.”
Pink was sweating profusely. There were half-moons of perspiration under the arms of his shirt. “No. Not like that. Royce and I…He found them there. I don’t know. It seemed like the best solution. Not just to let them get away with it. But what good would it do to ruin both their lives? It wouldn’t bring Michele back. And they were sorry. Let me tell you. You have never seen two boys carry on so. It was just a horrible, horrible accident.”
“Ruin their lives,” Lillie exclaimed.
“Lillie,” Pink said earnestly. “Believe me, I know how you feel. I wanted to kill them both with my bare hands when I heard. But we had to try and be rational. We had to think of the consequences. That’s why we didn’t tell you. We knew you’d be too upset to think straight.
“And then Royce came up with the idea of the military school for Tyler. And honestly, those places are almost worse than prison. Believe me, they can straighten that boy out, those tough old officers they’ve got there…”
“Stop it, Pink. Just stop it,” she said furiously. “
He’s a killer. He killed our daughter. And you let him walk away for Grayson’s sake. Don’t pretend it’s anything else. I’m not a fool. You did it so that no one would find out that he just let his own sister die and did nothing. So no one will know what a coward he was.”
Pink’s red face went suddenly pale, and he wagged a warning finger at his wife. “Don’t say that about him, Lillie. He feels bad enough. Don’t you call him a coward.”
“No, no, you’re right,” cried Lillie, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. “We mustn’t hurt his feelings. Even though Michele lost her life and he just stood by and watched.” Pink scrutinized her through narrowed eyes as Lillie stood trembling with fury, her mind racing.
“Well,” she said. “We’ll just see about that.” She turned and started for the door. In an instant Pink was in front of her, blocking her path. When she reached past him for the doorknob, Pink grabbed her wrist.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Lillie looked up at him fiercely, tears in her eyes. “I’m going to find him,” she said. “He is going to answer to me. How could you, Pink? You liar. All of you. Liars.”
“Lillie, you can’t tell anyone else.”
“Why?” she cried. “Why, Pink? So I can be a liar too?”
Pink’s face had taken on a strange, stiff cast, and his eyes had a smoldering, faraway look in them. “I knew you would react like this,” he said, tightening his grip on her. “Now you’re going to listen to me. I’m through apologizing to you. Grayson is just a young boy. He has his whole life ahead of him. I won’t let you destroy him.”
Lillie’s eyes blazed out at him and she shoved him back with the wrist he was still gripping. “He’s a liar and a coward and a…a traitor,” she cried. “And I don’t care who knows it.”
It was only an instant that they stood locked together, glaring at one another, but it seemed much longer to Lillie. The bones in her wrist felt as if they were being crushed as she twisted it in his grip. It was with a sense of disbelief that she saw him raise his fist and by the time she realized what was next, it was too late to guard her face. Her teeth banged together and blood spurted into her mouth as the punch landed hard on her cheekbone. The blow buckled her knees. She felt Pink shove her away from him and she fell, hitting the wall behind her.
Her eye throbbed in the socket and for a minute she was too stunned to move, but then she saw him looming above her and she scrambled to her feet.
“I won’t let you!” Pink cried, and then his voice broke. “I’m sorry, Lillie, but I can’t.”
“Yoo-hoo,” came a voice from the hall and the doorknob rattled. “Pink, are you in there? It’s Reba.” Pink and Lillie did not move or speak. They both heard Pink’s associate open her purse and begin to fumble for keys.
“Oh, me,” Reba said in exasperation. “Where are they?”
As if in a trance, Pink turned, walked to the door, and unlocked it. He hesitated a minute and then he pulled it open. He looked blankly out at Reba.
“Honey,” she scolded, “it’s not good for business to keep this door locked during weekend hours. This is our busiest time.” Still fussing about her keys, Reba bustled in past Pink, her arms full of packages. She gave Pink an indulgent smile and then her gaze fell on Lillie, who was standing with her body turned toward the wall, holding the side of her face. A yellowish bruise was already visible above her fingers and her eye was starting to swell shut. Reba’s smile faded away as she looked from Lillie back to Pink.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, as if she were somehow responsible for the conflict she had stumbled into. She hurried to her desk, her eyes lowered. Pink tried to catch her eye, ready to offer some jocular explanation, but Reba’s face was grim and she kept her eyes downcast as her hands fluttered over the papers on her desk. “I’ll be out of here in a minute,” she said rapidly. “I just need the spec sheet for that house on Larkspur and the keys. Where are those keys?” The phone rang and Reba grabbed it up gratefully. “Burdette and Associates,” she trilled with a false cheeriness. “One moment please. Who shall I say is calling?” She nodded and turned to Pink, the phone outstretched to him.
“This is young Tyler Ansley for you. The sheriff’s boy.”
Pink looked automatically at Lillie but turned immediately from the bitter accusation in her eyes. “I’ll take it,” he said. He stood holding the phone, his hand over the mouthpiece, as Reba quickly gathered her things.
She sidled out past Lillie, giving her a brief, embarrassed smile. “I’ll close the door,” she said.
“Thanks, Reba,” Pink said as she pulled the door to behind her. He turned his back on his wife and spoke into the phone.
“Hello, Tyler,” he said. “That’s right. I did.”
Lillie considered pulling the phone out of the wall. But what was the point? Pink would find another phone. The throbbing bruise on her face attested to his determination.
“Yes,” he was saying. “There’s a man who’s been nosing around here. My wife’s ex-husband, as a matter of fact, and he’s got the notion that it was you. Now he’s coming out there to try and make you talk, and you better watch your butt because he’s out to get you.”
Pink listened for a moment, an irritated expression on his face. “What I’m telling you is to keep your mouth shut. In fact, you’d be a whole lot better off if you didn’t let him get ahold of you at all, because if you let something slip there is no telling what he’s going to do. He’s out for blood.”
Pink listened briefly and then interrupted loudly. “No, no, listen here, boy. I’m telling you this for your own good. This guy is after you. What? Jordan Hill. He just left, so he could be there in five or six hours. I don’t know. You figure it out. Tell the truth, I wouldn’t care if he did beat your ass, but we agreed to keep this thing quiet and, by God, you better see that you do. All right.”
Pink slammed down the phone. He turned to face Lillie, his eyes defiant, in time to see the door shut behind her. She was gone. Pink’s shoulders sagged, and he felt a weight, like a cannonball, on his chest. He wanted to cry, but instead he reached for the phone and dialed again. It was too late for tears. Grayson and Royce would both have to know. Grayson first. That was the call he dreaded the most. He had promised to protect his son and he had botched the job. In the state Lillie was in, there was no telling what she might do. They had to try to make her see reason before it was too late.
Chapter 19
SHE DESCENDED THE STAIRS, almost running, but when she reached the sidewalk the cold air hit her like a slap, and she felt dizzy and dazed. Her heart was pounding out of control and she could not remember where she had parked. Passersby glanced at her and their glances frightened her, as if they all knew, as if they were incredulous that she had only now found out. Her frantic gaze fell on the comforting colors of her car and she stumbled toward it on wobbly legs, but once she was safely inside, she just sat, her hands trembling too much to turn the ignition key. She wanted to get to Grayson and leap at him like a wildcat and shake him like a rag doll and scream out at him “Why?” but her quivering fingers would not turn the key so she sat at the wheel and shivered, trying to think. Grayson. Her baby. Her son. He had always been the independent one. Pushing her away from her earliest memories of him. Wanting to do it himself. The opposite of Michele, who had turned to her, needed her so, welcomed her love. No, Grayson was the baby, but he was the strong, healthy, breezy one. Out the door and on the run, Michele watching adoringly as he piled up his successes. She idolized him. And he let her die.
Lillie put her hands on the wheel and smeared blood there from her palms, which she had punctured squeezing her hands into fists. She tried to think. Where would he be? There was a football game next week and this afternoon he would be at practice, leading the team as they practiced their plays. The captain of the team, the vice president of the student council, the leadership award winner. He had stood by. He had let Tyler Ansley murder his sister and stood by. And then the lies
. The lies too. All of it. Lillie felt as if the weight of it could crush her. She was going after him. That was all she knew. He had never sought her advice, and from time to time, when she would offer it, he would fidget impatiently, that long-suffering look on his face. Well, he would listen to her today, by God.
She waited a few more minutes, until she felt composed enough to be able to drive safely, and then she headed to the high school and drove around back to where the athletic field was. The Cress County Cougars were out on the field, all right. It was muddy because of the rain, and the bright white-and-purple uniforms were streaked with rust-colored mud. The coach blew his whistle and shouted unintelligible instructions as the boys lined up to hurl themselves at the tackling dummy.
Gripping her car keys tightly in one still-bloody palm, Lillie walked out to the front of the bleachers and stared at the tussling young men on the field. She craned her neck to peer at the various numbers on the uniforms but she could not spot number five among them. Usually she could recognize him by his brash, careless stance alone, but she could see no sign of Grayson among the players.
A voice called her name and Lillie swiveled around to see who it was. High up on the bleachers, a lone figure was hunched over against the chill, dressed in a pink dungaree jacket and cowboy boots. Instantly Lillie recognized the flame-colored hair of Allene Starnes. Lillie’s heart flipped over at the sight of her. She felt a surge of unreasonable anger as the girl gave her a timid wave.
“Grayson just got called inside to the phone,” Allene called down to her. “Some kind of emergency.”
Lillie knew immediately who it was. Pink. Telling the boy she was on her way. “Allene,” she demanded, “what are you doing here?” But she knew. She knew that this frail, unstable girl was waiting there for her son.
“I’m supposed to meet Gray after practice,” Allene admitted sheepishly.
Ordinarily Lillie would have minded her own business, kept out of it. Ordinarily she would have trusted her son. But this was not an ordinary day. And her son did not deserve to be trusted. He did not deserve the attentions of a girl, any girl. Much less this fragile, vulnerable girl.
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