No Way Home

by MacDonald, Patricia

  “I don’t know,” Grayson said irritably. “I must have just imagined it. But I’m sure you said it.”

  The room reeled around her. She ordered her mind to be a blank, but she could not stop the thought that was mushrooming inside her head. An icy feeling of fear clutched her heart, squeezed it.

  “Grayson,” she whispered. “You have to tell me the truth. You didn’t have anything to do with this?”

  Grayson looked at her in frustration, as if she were a dimwitted child. “Of course not. Are you going to start hounding me about this now?”

  “If you did, you must tell me.”

  “I told you. No. How many ways do I have to say it?”

  “Son, I—I want to believe you. But why did you say that about the well?”

  Grayson stared at her stonily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say anything about the well. It’s all in your head.”

  Lillie was about to cry out in protest and then she stopped herself. “All right,” she said, her voice shaking. “We’ll settle this. I’ll just call the sheriff’s office and ask where they found the body.”

  “No, you don’t,” Grayson barked, stepping in front of her. “Just get back.”

  As he blocked her way to the phone, Lillie was suddenly aware, as if for the first time, of his size and his strength. He was not a child. He was a man. An angry man. Capable of hurting her if he chose to. She forced the awful thought from her mind. This was her son.

  “You don’t tell me what to do,” she said. “Get out of my way.”

  Grayson hesitated for a moment and then, almost to her surprise, he gave way, letting her pass. He stared into the distance, as if preoccupied with something.

  Lillie glanced at him and then she walked unsteadily toward the phone. Her insides were jumping wildly, but she tried to appear calm and resolute. Grayson had turned away from her and kneaded his fist with his other hand. “All right,” he said impatiently. “All right. Put it back. You don’t have to call them.”

  Lillie gripped the receiver. “Why?” she asked faintly, without looking at him.

  “Because…he was in the well.”

  There was a roaring in her head. “How do you know?” she said.

  “How do you think?” he asked.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “You wanted me to tell you. So I’m telling you,” he said angrily.

  “Oh, God, no,” Lillie breathed.

  Grayson circled her, forcing her to look at him. “Wait a minute, Mom. Don’t act now like it’s some tragic thing. It’s Tyler we’re talking about. It’s what you wanted me to do. Wasn’t it?” He looked at her imploringly. “Wasn’t it, Mom?”

  She stared at him, her heart thudding wildly in her chest, her face bright, as if it had been seared.

  “Avenge Michele,” he cried. “That’s what you wanted. You practically accused me because I didn’t do it before. That is what you wanted. Don’t deny it. If I did it, I did it for you. And for Dad.”

  Lillie’s legs wobbled, and she grabbed the back of Pink’s chair for support. God help me, she thought over and over. Did I do this? Is this what I made him believe? Tears filled her eyes and she began to shake her head. “No, darling, no.”

  Grayson began to pace back and forth across the room. “This morning, after Dad left,” he said, “Tyler called me.

  He wanted to meet me. At first I didn’t want to see him but then I thought, well, maybe I should. Here’s my chance. I’ll do it. I’ll do what they want. So they can be proud of me again. So that there will be some justice for Michele.”

  “You killed him?” Lillie whispered.

  “He killed Michele,” Grayson cried.

  “Oh, baby, I know I said he should be punished.” Lillie moaned. “But when I said that I didn’t mean…not to take his life. That was never what I meant.”

  “Wait a minute,” Grayson protested. “You can’t start saying that now. You were the one who wanted an eye for an eye. You were screaming at me, saying I was a coward. So, when he came back I decided I’d make him pay, for once and for all.”

  Lillie’s head was pounding. Her mouth was almost too dry to form the words. “Darling, oh, God, I was angry and I yelled at you. And I said some things in anger…but I never…I would never want you to kill another human being. Not for any reason, my God.” She tried not to picture him dealing the blows.

  “Don’t you start backing down now, Mom,” he said. “It’s too late for that. I did what you said.”

  Lillie shook her head helplessly and reached out to him but he backed away from her. “Grayson,” she said. “You are right. I feel as guilty as if I had killed him myself. I’m not trying to deny that, son. Believe me.” Her breath was short, and her heart ached so that she wondered, for a moment, if she was having a heart attack.

  “Good,” he said.

  “It doesn’t matter what I said. You understood that that was what I wanted you to do.”

  “That’s right,” he exclaimed.

  “I will tell them that, Grayson. Your father and I both are at fault here. All I can tell you is that people will understand. After all we’ve been through, I know that they’ll see what happened here.” I pray they will, she thought. Although she wondered if God heard her prayers anymore.

  Grayson stared at her with startled, diamond-hard eyes. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re not telling anybody else about this. I didn’t tell you this so you could throw me to the wolves. You’re responsible for this. You have to cover for me.”

  “Oh, son,” Lillie pleaded in a strangled voice. “You have to believe that I love you and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But we can’t cover this up. It’s gone too far. We have to tell the truth about this. There are other people involved here.”

  “Who? Like Jordan Hill? We covered up about Michele,” he shouted. “And you thought that was fine.”

  “That was different,” said Lillie, although for a minute she could not think why. “She was ours. We were the victims,” she finally managed to say. “But that’s not the point. We have no choice here.”

  “The point is,” he shouted, “that I did this for you and you have to protect me.”

  “Don’t you see?” she said. “That’s what I’m trying to do. What’s next, Grayson? What’s next? This whole thing has gone too far. Do you think Royce Ansley won’t know it was you, sooner or later? And then what? You’re walking home from school one day and you get hit by a car? And no one is ever arrested? So Royce gets his revenge. And then what? Where does it end? I’m trying to protect you the only way I can. I have to stop this thing.” Her eyes were blind with tears.

  “Okay, Mom, look. You’re losing it. You’re not making any sense,” said Grayson. “Now Dad’s going to be home before long. He’ll know what to do. We’ll just tell him about it and let him decide.”

  Lillie shook her head sadly. “Oh, I know,” she said. “I know what your father will decide. He’ll think that more lies are the answer. That’s why I’m not going to wait for Dad. We can’t live like this. It seems easier to you now, but you have to believe me. These lies will destroy us. There is no other way.”

  She turned her back on him and walked to the closet. She opened the door, reached inside, and pulled out her coat.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Grayson demanded.

  “I’m going to the police station,” she said calmly. “And I want you to come with me.”

  “Are you crazy?” he cried. “I’m not going there. Why are you doing this to me? I thought you said you loved me.” His voice was sarcastic.

  “I do love you,” she said. “That’s why we have to go. It’s the only way I can think of that you’ll be safe.” She turned back to the closet rack and pulled out his jacket. “Put this on. You’ll need it tonight. It’s chilly.”

  “No, I won’t,” he said.

  She turned, holding his jacket, and saw him facing her, his eyes glittering with hatred. In his hand he held
Brenda’s gun, trained steadily on her.

  “You’re not telling anybody,” he said.

  She could not believe her eyes. “Grayson, for pity’s sake,” she breathed.

  He drew back the hammer. Staring her down, his eyes were cold, murderous. Her child’s eyes. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. The words “too late” came to her mind.

  “Get away from the door,” he commanded. “You do as I say now. Or I’ll kill you too.”

  Chapter 29

  EASING HIMSELF FROM HIS MOTHER’S EMBRACE, Jordan kissed her dry cheek, then headed for the car. “I’ll call you soon,” he assured her as he turned back to wave. She stood on the front steps, holding the front of her coat together with one hand and waving with the other.

  He threw his overnight bag in the backseat of the rental car and drove off on the road out of town. There was only one short detour he wanted to make before he headed to the airport. It was hardly even out of his way.

  He turned off the main street onto the road to the cemetery. After parking his car along the roadside, he climbed the hill to the iron gate. There was moonlight enough to see by, but still it spooked him a little to be there at night by himself. He hesitated for a moment before approaching his daughter’s grave. Then he thought of his little girl, buried alone here for eternity, and his atavistic fears shamed him.

  Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet and rustled against the granite markers as he found his way to her. The bare, black tree branches seemed to reach out over the graves, and the mown fields glistened beyond, almost like snow in the moonlight. Jordan sighed and gazed down at her headstone. For a moment he said a silent prayer, and then he shook his head. The sheriff’s words still nagged at him: Leaving is what you do best.

  The creak of a gate reached his ears, and Jordan turned around. At first, when he saw the shadowy figure looming over the graves, he thought his senses were deceiving him, that exhaustion was making him see and hear things. But suddenly he felt a chill.

  Someone was entering the graveyard and coming toward him. Jordan peered into the darkness, his heart racing a little at the sight of the intruder. As the dark figure came nearer, Jordan suddenly recognized its familiar size and contours, and he exhaled, as surreptitiously as possible, when he saw that it was the sheriff, Royce Ansley. Then, just as suddenly, his apprehension returned at the sight of the sheriff’s face.

  “Royce,” he exclaimed more heartily than he felt, “we meet again. What are you doing here?”

  Royce’s eyes were flat black and looked sunken in his head. His face seemed wizened, like an old man’s, and his expression was still and forbidding. “I was on my way to your mother’s to get you when I spotted you pulling up here,” he said.

  Jordan did not like the sound of the phrase “to get you,” but he was curious all the same. “I decided to stop here on my way out of town. Just to say good-bye, I guess,” he explained.

  Royce looked down at Michele’s grave. “Wanted to gloat a little bit, eh? Let her know you’d taken care of Tyler?”

  Jordan peered at the sheriff in the darkness. “I thought we already had this out,” he said.

  “You almost got away with it,” Royce said slowly. “Not quite.”

  “Look, Sheriff,” said Jordan impatiently. “I think we said all we needed to back at the hotel.” Jordan glanced at the dial of his watch, which glowed green in the dark. “I know you’re ticked off, and maybe you wanted to finish this in private, but I’ve got a plane to catch.”

  Royce gave Jordan a mirthless smile. “Thought you’d found a perfect spot for him, didn’t you? Never figured we’d find him so soon. My, you must have been surprised when Wallace came along to the hotel tonight.”

  For the first time Jordan was genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? Find who?”

  Royce’s dead eyes suddenly came to life with a spark of fury. “I ought to kill you myself,” he said, taking a step toward Jordan.

  Jordan jumped back, still trying to comprehend what was going on. Then, all at once, Royce’s words began to register. He stared at the sheriff. “My God, Royce. Was it Tyler you found?” he croaked. “What happened to him? Is he all right?”

  “Spare me the performance,” said Royce. “Save it for someone who’ll really appreciate it. Like a jury. Come on. I’m taking you in.” As he spoke, Royce had removed some handcuffs from his belt. He reached out and snapped them on Jordan, twisting his arms roughly behind his back, before Jordan had a chance to protest.

  “Taking me in?” Jordan cried. “Wait. What the hell are you doing? Royce, is Tyler dead?”

  Royce prodded Jordan roughly from behind, and Jordan stumbled forward. Pushed by the sheriff, he staggered along through the cemetery. “Oh, he’s dead all right,” Royce drawled. “What’d you figure? You’d beat his head in and toss him down the well just to teach him a little lesson for the future?” Despite the fury in his tone, the sheriff’s voice cracked on the last words.

  They had reached the gate and Royce shoved Jordan forward so that he fell down the slope and landed hard on his face, without the use of his arms to break the fall. Rolling onto his side, Jordan managed to get up on his knees just as Royce unlocked the back door of the cruiser. He pulled Jordan up by the elbow and pushed him inside, as hard as he could. Jordan’s cheek cracked against the opposite door handle and he slumped down onto the seat.

  He struggled to sit up as Royce went around and got into the front seat. Jordan could feel the blood trickle down the side of his face. “Royce!” he cried.

  “Shut up,” said the sheriff. He pulled away from the roadside, leaving Jordan’s rental car parked forlornly in front of the graveyard.

  “What happened? What happened to Tyler? My God, I told you I never even saw him.”

  “That’s what you said,” the sheriff agreed bitterly.

  “I swear it,” said Jordan. “He was gone when I got to the school. The colonel called you. He can tell you.”

  “You claimed he was gone,” Royce corrected him. “That must have been after you killed him. Then you brought him back here and dumped him somewhere you figured no one would ever look. Well, surprise, Mr. Movie Star.”

  Jordan fell back against the bouncing seat and licked the blood as it dribbled into his mouth. He closed his eyes and tried to think. He had to get through to Royce somehow. Calm down, he told himself. Use your head. Of course he suspects you, he reminded himself. You went after Tyler. Tyler was fine until then.

  Tyler dead. Jordan gasped again as he thought of it. It was unbelievable. Yesterday he’d gone looking for him and today he was dead. Jordan could not help but realize that it would not appear coincidental. But you know the truth, he reminded himself. The truth is that Tyler had run away. Which means.that he must have come back to Felton on his own. He must have had a reason to come back.

  Jordan suddenly opened his eyes and sat up. You know why he came back, he thought. You know something that Royce doesn’t.

  He leaned forward to the wire mesh grid that separated him from the other man. “Sheriff,” he said.

  Royce ignored him.

  “Royce, I’m sorry about your son. I am. Please believe that. But I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “That little visit to the hotel tonight. Now that was a nice touch. You wanted to see if you could make me kiss your ass after you’d already killed my son. I wish I could skin you alive. I almost don’t care what they’d give me for it. Just as long as I could make you pay.”

  “Look, do you want to make threats or do you want to talk about the truth?” Jordan shouted over the sheriff s ravings. “I didn’t bring your son back here, dead or alive.

  He came back here to see someone, and I know-who it was.”

  Through the cage that separated the seats, Jordan could see that Royce’s shoulders were hunched as if to keep out the sound of Jordan’s voice. Jordan leaned forward, close to the metal grid. “Grayson Burdette,” he said. “He came back here to see that
kid.”

  Royce shook his head and drove on for a minute, but then it was as if he himself, instead of the car, had run out of fuel. He slowed down and then pulled the car over to the side of the road, where it bumped to a halt. He sat there, refusing to look back at Jordan, not moving.

  Jordan’s lips were so dry, he could hardly speak. He couldn’t see Royce’s face and had no idea what might be going through the sheriff’s mind. The road was lonely and desolate, and his heart felt a little sickening thud of fear. But deep inside he was calm, a certain conviction steadying him. The lies had begun to unravel inside his head.

  As he looked out the window of the patrol car, he suddenly recognized the spot where they were stopped.

  “Royce,” he said to the silent, unmoving man on the seat in front of him. “We’re right near the entrance to the Arches. I want to go down there. I want to see the place where Michele died again.” He waited anxiously, half prepared for the sheriff to turn on him with a gun. Instead, after a moment, Royce got out of the car and opened up Jordan’s door. He did not speak, and, in the darkness, Jordan could not see what was in his eyes. Jordan struggled out of the seat, and the two men tramped toward the dirt road that led to the Arches. Jordan glanced at the sheriff but Royce kept his eyes ahead as he walked. They reached the dirt road and began to make their way down it, toward the Arches and the river below. Jordan’s arms ached from being bound by the cuffs but he did not complain. As he walked, his mind worked furiously. There was only one person Tyler would have risked his safety to see: Grayson. Grayson, the only other witness. The only other person who knew exactly what happened to Michele. Therefore, he was the one person who might have the best reason to kill him.

  Jordan judged by the heavy tread and the preoccupied scowl of the man beside him that perhaps these same thoughts, in a slightly different form, might also be occurring to the sheriff. But there was a piece missing for the sheriff. A piece he would not want to hear.

  A low-hanging branch snapped across Jordan’s face in the dark and he let out a cry. The sheriff stopped and stared at him. Jordan calculated the effect of his next words. He was cuffed and helpless. He steeled himself for a blow and spoke quickly, before Royce could react.