If Anything Should Happen

by Bonnie Hearn Hill

  She waited for the blow, but it didn’t come. Nothing came but silence. When she opened her eyes and looked up again, his face was that red-meat color.

  ‘I’m your wife,’ she said. ‘I’d never do or say anything to bring shame to you. Besides, didn’t you check on that job last week?’

  ‘I told you I did.’ He rocked back from her, as if he’d started to lose his balance. ‘Now, I have to check on it again, since we sure as hell aren’t making it on this outfit your old man left us. I just don’t like the idea of Coulter coming out here while I’m gone.’

  She rose to her feet. He’d simmered down now. She could always tell. He was like a roller coaster that had to fly out of control before it slowed and finally stopped.

  ‘You don’t have anything to worry about,’ she said, and then slid the broken dish into the paper sack beneath the sink.

  He moved beside her. ‘You promise?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘If you’re lying, the both of you are going to be in big trouble.’

  ‘I’m not lying.’ Nothing was going on with Leighton and her, nothing at all. ‘Go see about the job, babe. You know I’m in your corner.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t hide anything from me?’

  She knew where this was going, but she could handle him now. It would be fine if she just behaved. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then let’s just go back to the bedroom,’ he said. ‘There’s something I want to check out.’

  ‘Sure, Dale.’

  The hall felt too narrow, as if the anger and suspicion in the house had squeezed it together.

  He stepped into the room, and as she knew he would, headed straight for her pillow.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, her voice calm now, yes, calm, under control. ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘Your little keepsake here, for starters.’ He picked up her pillow and tugged at its seams. The whipstitch she’d done on it in the bathroom had been swift, but it held. Dale punched his fingers around both sides and bent the pillow almost in half. ‘I saw something, I swear,’ he said. ‘You better not be playing games with me, little girl.’

  Rena stood at the door to the bedroom, her hands folded in front of her, doing her best to look relaxed. ‘I’m not playing games with you, Dale.’ Her voice sounded a little too sing-song, and she could tell by his sudden shifty grin that he caught it.

  ‘You ever try to, and you don’t even want to know what will happen.’ He walked up close to her, shot out his index finger and thumb like a cocked gun, then tapped his finger against her temple. ‘Don’t think you can trust Bryn either, just because she’s Leighton’s kid. She’ll tell me everything that goes on here while I’m gone.’

  ‘Nothing will go on,’ Rena said. ‘I promise.’

  ‘If you do one thing—’ He pressed his finger harder, and if she didn’t know better she’d have sworn it was a gun. ‘You do one rotten thing, and I’ll take you out like that. It’s a promise.’

  She held her breath until he took his finger away from her head. Then she said, ‘Good luck on that job. I sure hope you get it.’

  He took one look back at the pillow and another one at her. Then he smacked her on the ass, friendly, though, not trying to hurt her. ‘I swear, woman. You sure can screw up a good man’s head.’

  The smack turned into something more like a fondle. Not now, she thought as the fingers that had been tapping her skull a few moments ago began kneading her behind.

  ‘Dale,’ she began, but it was too late. ‘Dale?’ She looked toward the open bedroom door. Bryn had walked in on them once this morning. She could return any minute.

  He kicked it shut and held out his big arms. ‘Come here,’ he said. ‘I need me something sweet to remember on that drive to Phoenix.’

  FIFTEEN

  I had tried to call the Brantinghams several times after my talk with Luis. Each time, a rude woman cut me off, saying they were not at home and hanging up before I could leave a message. Farley and I discussed it and decided I needed to speak with them in person. Yet when I called the last time, the rude woman told me they were away.

  ‘For how long?’ I asked.

  ‘For some time.’ She sighed. ‘For now, Mr and Mrs Brantingham are unavailable. Thanks for calling, though.’ Click.

  Meeting with Mayor Carla Brantingham was easy. Meeting with her parents again, not so much. I wanted to talk to them before I talked to her, but wasn’t sure how. Thanks to Farley, though, I’d learned that her father played at a putting range by the river every Saturday. I didn’t like acting like a stalker, but I didn’t have much choice. Farley wanted to go with me, but I told him I wasn’t sure what time I’d be going, if at all. Although he probably knew I was lying, he kept quiet.

  Joseph Brantingham stood just outside the course, talking to a guy about his age, both of them wearing the clothes that make sense only to golfers. He saw me, lifted his sunglasses, and moved away from his companion.

  ‘Miss Doyle?’ he asked with a squint. ‘Kit?’

  ‘Hello, Joseph,’ I said. No one called him Joe.

  ‘It’s good to see you.’ His smile was so innocent, so decent that I wanted to run in the other direction. ‘I didn’t know you played.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Well, neither do I – not much any more. Just thought I’d come out and hit some balls around.’

  ‘Joseph.’ I nearly choked on my own voice. ‘I’ve been trying to contact you, and no one knows where you are.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘We’re home most of the time. At least you’re helping solve other crimes. Knowing that, Bette and I are as much at peace as we can be under the circumstances.’

  ‘But the person who answers your phone says you aren’t available,’ I said.

  ‘Sandra?’ He nodded. ‘Our daughter is convinced we need a live-in helper, and we’re putting up with the intrusion for now. I’m confused, though. Are you saying Sandra doesn’t put through your calls?’

  ‘The woman who answers your phone doesn’t,’ I told him, happy to tattle.

  ‘Come to think of it, we’ve gotten very few calls since she joined us.’ With each clench of his fist, his knuckles reddened. ‘This is extremely disturbing. I need to go home now, call my daughter.’

  ‘Before you do.’ I reached out for his arm, but found myself unable to touch it. ‘I don’t know an easy way to put this, Joseph. I’m grateful for your funding my blog.’

  ‘We’re honored to do so.’ He stared off at the horizon, as if trying to recall a speech. ‘It’s the most we can do for other families with losses like ours.’

  ‘Someone has come forward.’ I wanted to look anywhere but into his eyes, but forced myself to do it anyway.

  ‘About Alex’s …?’ He couldn’t seem to bring himself to say the word. I knew how he felt.

  ‘His name is Luis Vang.’

  His lips tightened. ‘I know who he is.’

  ‘Are you aware of his relationship with Alex?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course.’ He lowered his voice, as if someone were close enough to hear us, but the other golfers had moved far away. ‘I’m no fool.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I couldn’t,’ he said. ‘Bette has no idea. It would kill her.’

  ‘That’s your business, but I’ve been blogging about a death I knew little about, and a man may go to prison or worse because no one knows what really happened to your son.’

  ‘What do his problems have to do with that?’ he asked, all swagger and wealthy farmer now. ‘Are you saying it somehow contributed to his murder?’

  His attitude offset any pity I had for him. Yes, he had lost a son, and I had no doubt he’d trade any number of days on sunny, green-grass courses like this one if he could go back. But would he change what he had done?

  ‘You thought you cured him, didn’t you?’

  He seemed to sink against the golf cart. ‘What do you know about that?’

&nb
sp; ‘That you sent your son away. That he was supposed to be turned around or whatever you call the process.’

  ‘Conversion.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I told him. ‘Once he drank the Kool-Aid, he would never be attracted to anyone of the same sex.’

  ‘No one said it was foolproof. We had to try though.’

  His sadness upset me more than if he had lashed out at me the way I wanted to at him just then. ‘What happens if this conversion doesn’t work?’ I asked. ‘Do parents send their kids back for another jolt?’

  ‘You can find that information on plenty of websites,’ he said. ‘I am very weary of this conversation, and I’m going home to my wife now.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to hear it from you. I wondered how you could justify what you did, even if it were possible to stop human attraction.’

  ‘I said it was a gamble, but even if they can’t immediately eliminate the attraction, they learn how to develop the strength to abstain.’

  ‘How easy would you have found that when you were his age?’

  ‘That was different. I wasn’t … I wasn’t like them.’

  ‘You tried to change who your son was,’ I said.

  ‘I owed it to him.’ His voice sounded as drained as he looked. ‘It’s an even greater tragedy that he beat this demon and was killed before he could live a normal life.’

  ‘You don’t know?’ Chills crept along my arms. ‘You don’t know, do you?’

  His shocked, sad expression answered every question I had. He had honestly believed Alex was no longer attracted to men.

  When I told Luis that Alex’s dad had no idea that the conversion hadn’t worked, he just shook his head.

  ‘This isn’t going away, is it?’ he said.

  ‘Not until we find out what really happened,’ I told him. ‘I need to talk to others who were in the camp when Alex was.’

  ‘A guy named Jerry. He and Alex were friends, but when I asked him to speak to you, he said he’s not sure.’

  ‘Doesn’t he realize what’s at stake?” I said.

  ‘There’s a lot at stake for him too.’ He handed me a piece of paper. ‘Here are some numbers you can start with.’

  Finally, I had a place to begin, even though the two sources agreed to speak with me by phone only.

  A man who refused to give his name described the camp as torture, not treatment. He said he would die before he returned.

  ‘All it did was convince me to be more of who I am,’ a woman named Katherine said. ‘They wanted to beat us into submission in that place.’

  ‘And Alex?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh my god. Alex and Jerry were treated the worst. I’m not sure why, but they seemed to get the brunt of it.’

  I thanked her for her contribution and phoned Luis Vang again. ‘I’ve got to talk to Jerry,’ I told him.

  ‘And I told you he’s not sure.’

  ‘Try to convince him,’ I said.

  He called me back and said that Jerry would meet with me. ‘He’s a pre-law student at the college and works part-time at a restaurant,’ Luis said. ‘Lives not far from here. I’ll let him know to expect your call.’

  When I called Jerry, I could hear the hesitation in his voice. ‘Are you going to use my name?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ I said.

  ‘Then why don’t you stop by Applebee’s. I work there so I can’t talk long.’

  Even a short conversation was better than none. Farley and I met Jerry at the restaurant late that night. Once he got off his shift, he joined us in our booth.

  As we stared at each other across the table, I thought that this tall, dark-eyed man could pass for straight if he wanted to. Apparently, he did.

  ‘Order you a drink?’ he asked and clutched a full glass. ‘On the house, of course.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ I said, and Farley shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know if I should be talking to you,’ he said, ‘but Luis says you can help, and Alex was a friend of mine.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ I asked.

  ‘That I don’t know, I swear.’

  ‘What can you tell us about Frank Vera?’

  ‘Other than he’s being charged with the murder, nothing.’ His gaze was steady, dark eyes unblinking. ‘Until this happened, I’d never even heard of him.’

  From the back, a vacuum cleaner threatened to drown out his words. ‘We’re closing,’ he said. ‘Maybe we can talk again.’

  ‘Can you at least walk out with us?’ I asked him. ‘Anything you can tell us will help.’

  ‘I guess so.’ He glanced over his shoulder, and I felt the hesitation set in. Still, we stood and walked toward the front entrance, where a smiling server, still in uniform, unlocked and held the door open for us.

  Outside, a chilled breeze made me shiver. ‘You met Alex at the camp?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘And he was a good person. I don’t know what I can say other than he didn’t deserve what happened to him, and I hope whoever is responsible pays.’

  ‘How was his relationship with Luis?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, considering that Alex wanted to change his life, not ideal.’ He stood into the bright overhead lights, inching away from us. ‘I barely know Luis, though, and I’m not trying to suggest he’d ever harm Alex.’ He glanced around again, clearly nervous.

  ‘Are you worried about someone seeing you with us?’ I asked.

  ‘No, not at all. Just my girlfriend.’ His gaze bored into mine. ‘She’s coming to pick me up.’

  ‘Oh.’ I couldn’t grab an easy answer to that.

  ‘If you think of something else,’ Farley told him, ‘please contact us.’

  We started to walk away just as a little red car pulled in front of the restaurant. Although I couldn’t make out the features of the woman driving, I knew why she was there.

  ‘Got to go now,’ Jerry said.

  ‘Wait.’ I walked back toward him.

  He flashed me a look of impatience. ‘What now? We’re in a hurry.’

  ‘You knew Alex well,’ I said. ‘What effect do you think the camp had on him?’

  He paused, sighed, and then wiped his brow. ‘Not good. He really struggled.’

  ‘Struggled how?’ I asked, but he shook his head emphatically.

  ‘That’s all I can tell you. Alex was fighting a bigger, meaner demon than I was.’

  ‘How’s that?’ I asked.

  ‘Because I got cured.’ His expression grew solemn. He nodded once, and then jogged over to the car.

  SIXTEEN

  Sometimes, she forgot things. Kendra had said that didn’t make her crazy, and that was good enough for her. So maybe she could let herself forget what had happened in that sticky, sweaty bed with Dale less than three hours before. Yes. All that mattered right now was what Bryn had said, Leighton’s wonderful news. She needed to figure out a way to tell Kendra.

  I have something to tell you, Kendra. I don’t know where it will lead, but I have some news about something that just might … No, that sounded too much like what her mama would call phoney baloney. She shut off the radio.

  Kendra, honey. You’ve been there for me, and now I’m going to be there for you.

  No. That kind of talk was more Kendra than it was her.

  OK. OK. Kendra. I love you like a sister. That was the truth. Kendra, I love you as if you were my own sister, and I’ve just learned something that I believe will be very important to you.

  Yes, that was perfect, because it was the way she felt. Even if Kendra had only just moved back, their friendship had started up where it left off all those years ago.

  Rena parked the car in the back of Kendra’s store and got out. Kendra, I love you as if you were my own sister. The pavement was already so hot that the heat burned through her flip-flops. I’ve just learned something that I believe will be very important to you.

  Kendra spotted her from the back of the shop and waved. Her hair was pulled up, and the way the strip
of sunlight lit her features, she looked as high-spirited and sure of herself as she had the first time Rena had ever seen her, back in high school. It seemed impossible that they’d ever been that young, but they had. Kendra Folger, a senior whose beauty and self-confidence gave her more friends than any one person needed, and Rena McCord, a scared little freshman.

  When she’d seen Kendra walking down the road that night she was driving home from church. The last thing Rena had wanted to do was pull over in her daddy’s old rusted pickup and offer her a ride, but she couldn’t just keep driving and pretend she hadn’t seen her. Good thing she had stopped too. After Kendra jumped in, still wearing her green-and-gold cheerleader outfit, she didn’t seem to mind the pickup and its tinny-sounding radio.

  ‘Am I glad to see you.’

  Her face lit up so fast that Rena almost missed the tears in her eyes. Then she noticed the torn skirt.

  Months passed before they trusted each other enough to talk about that night. ‘A bad date gone worse,’ Kendra said, trying to make fun of it. But there was nothing funny about being out in a dusty field with a guy trying to grope you, even if he was the class president.

  Rena had told her she should tell someone, go to the school counselor or her parents, but she didn’t want to. ‘I wouldn’t know what to tell those people,’ she had said. ‘Nothing happened.’

  But something almost had, and it might have if Rena hadn’t shown up when she did. From then on, Kendra called that old pickup the Magic Pumpkin. Rena always felt like they should have warned someone about Phil. Class president or not, if he’d try to force Kendra, what would happen if he went after a girl who wouldn’t fight back? They never knew because Phil’s family moved away that summer, and they never saw him again. Even when her mind was at its worst, Rena never forgot that night on the road and the way that, in spite of her torn clothes, Kendra seemed bigger than her problems.

  That light that seemed to radiate from her was what Rena had noticed about Kendra the first day of study hall. Sometimes, after all she’d been through, Kendra still had that look. She had it now.