It made sense that a friend of Big Bill's would have called him with the news, but how did the story ever get that far so fast? Why would the truck driver tell anyone at all? If Big Bill were the driver, then taking Carlee to the hospital and praying with her in the waiting room would help throw suspicion off him. Maybe mentioning the truck to Carlee was a slip of the tongue.
If the truck really was a "Lucky Trucking" vehicle, what was it doing in an area the company didn't service? The only connections the truck had to Bergeron County were the Summers brothers, and Big Bill knew that a truck caused the accident. The coincidence stunk.
I concluded that Big Bill was the only one I knew with motive, opportunity, and the "weapon" to cause the accident. Carlee had already angered him about our relationship earlier on the day of the accident. He would have known Ant and I were at the barn party that night and which road we would take home. It was hard for me to believe that he allowed Carlee to spend so much time with me after the accident simply because he was such a compassionate man. I believed that it could have been guilt and keeping the appearance that he didn't wish me harm.
One thing that had bothered me since homecoming night was the fact that Bill Summers had never taken his revenge for me punching him, and Big Bill was much more likely to hold a grudge until death than he was to turn the other cheek.
It was close to dawn before I reached the decision that Carlee and I should only give our information on my accident to the police. As much as I tried to believe that her father was not really a bad man, I was anything but comfortable with the idea of Carlee confronting him. Even if he had nothing to do with the accident, I knew that he didn't like anyone questioning him. He had already proven that when he was angry, he could lose control and get physical with his family. I didn't want Carlee to face one of his rages alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When I woke up, blinding sunshine was pouring through the window, and I knew that I had slept much longer than I had intended. On the way to the bathroom, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already a few minutes past noon. Carlee was already gone, and I assumed that she was waiting for me up at Papa's house. I thought that she had probably already eaten breakfast, read the paper, and knocked off a few household chores.
I dressed in my jeans, a tee shirt, and sandals. As I took my wallet off the nightstand, I saw a note from Carlee.
River, you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you. I'm going to the store to pick up groceries so that Papa and Tyler don't come back from their trip to find that we're out of food. I will be back no later than noon, and you can tell me what you have planned for the rest of the day. I hope I didn't sound too defensive last night because it scares me when you're angry with me. I'm really trying not to make any more mistakes like in the past. See you soon.
Love Carlee
Since it was already past noon, I assumed that Carlee would be back soon. I didn't want her to think that I was upset with her, but I was glad that she realized that she might have been too defensive. I wanted her to understand that I was only keeping an open mind about how her father could have known about the truck's involvement in the accident. I thought that a good hug and a few of the right words would have Carlee and me back to normal, and then we could discuss what to do with our information.
Papa had taken Tyler camping and fishing, and they were due back late that afternoon. It was Tyler's last chance before school started, and he loved spending time with Papa at the lake.
In Papa's kitchen, I ate a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. While I waited for Carlee to come home with the groceries, I read the newspaper she had left on the kitchen table. When she still wasn't home by one o'clock, I called her cell phone. I smiled as I thought of how she often made unplanned stops at stores and browsed until she lost track of time. It wasn't that unusual for her to be late, but I was anxious to make sure that we were okay. Her phone rang until it went to voicemail, but I decided to text her rather than leaving a voice message.
Where r u? When u coming home?
About five minutes later, my cell signaled the incoming message from Carlee's phone.
Safe with Dad. Don't call again. We're over.
I read it five times. The words sickened me. I knew that Carlee would never joke that way about us because she was too serious about our relationship. Just that morning, the same girl left me a note saying that she hoped that I was not angry with her. Apparently, she had decided to go to her father's house without me. Had her father come up with a big lie to turn Carlee against me? The only way I knew to find out was to ask her, and I decided that if she was breaking it off with me that she would have to do it to my face. I don't even remember walking out to my car, but within minutes of receiving the text message, I was driving to Bill Summers' house.
When I parked my Honda in the Summers' circular drive, I saw Carlee's Lexus parked on one of the concrete pads next to the garage. When I reached the front door of the house, I saw that someone had left the door cracked open a few inches. It was odd, but I gave it only a brief thought before I pushed the door open the rest of the way and peeked inside. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I stepped inside and called Carlee's name, but there was no answer. I walked slowly through the large hall and checked each downstairs room as I came to it. I found Carlee by the huge stone fireplace in the family room.
Carlee wore jeans and a blue short-sleeved top that always looked good on her. Her blond hair was in a ponytail. I could only see one side of her face and one blue eye, which was slightly open and appeared to stare at something across the floor. I stood in the doorway and watched her for what felt like an eternity, but was no more than thirty seconds and in those thirty seconds, she never changed the focus of her eye, and she didn't move a muscle, not even to breathe. She simply stayed in her prone position on the floor in front of the fireplace as if she were napping. Napping forever.
I was suddenly on my knees by her side. I searched her cool wrist for a pulse but found none. I had not noticed the blood from my view in the doorway, but by kneeling next to her, I could see the puddle under her head. I noticed another streak of blood on one of the large stones that formed the base of the fireplace.
I'm not sure why I reacted as I did. I'm not sure why I wasn't screaming for help except that I knew she was beyond helping. I'm not sure why I wasn't balling my eyes out over losing the only girl that I ever loved. The girl I planned to marry after college. I don't know why I didn't look for the cause of her death, or why my brain wasn't screaming that her father had something to do with it. I don't know why I forgot about the text message from her and my reason for being there.
Looking back on it, I think my rational mind shut down when I sat on the floor next to Carlee and stroked her hair. It all suddenly made sense to me. I knew it wasn't real. It wasn't possible for me to lose Carlee. Not after all I had already lost. Not Carlee too. It had to be another nightmare. A strangely realistic one.
I stretch out beside Carlee and continue to stroke her hair. I wish I could finish the dream so that I'm not in her father's house. Then, as if I called him to my dream, I hear the big man's voice behind me. He is yelling something, and he comes to us, stops and kneels on the other side of Carlee. He feels her neck, curses loudly, and stands over me. The man roars like an angry grizzly as he kicks me once in the ribs, once in the head, and again in my ribs. I bite my tongue and taste blood in my mouth. My head hurts. I'm dizzy. I don't have the energy to respond. Can you really taste anything in a dream? Doesn't Big Bill know this isn't real? Damn, why won't he calm down? I feel pressure in my head like my brains will blow out my ears. The grizzly looks fuzzy. The room is darker.
Big Bill is talking loudly on the phone. I hear him say that River Blue came into his house to take his daughter. That we fought and she died. He says I killed Carlee. I call him a moron and tell him to get out of my dream. He keeps on yelling into his phone, and I tell him that he's a freaking idiot, and I see that he has a gun pointed a
t me. I think he is an even bigger ass in my dream than he is in person. I tell him to quit his lying, and again, I tell him to get the hell out of my dream. Past Big Bill, I see that Max is staring at me from the doorway, and he thinks I've hurt Carlee. His body hitches with loud sobs.
It's crazy, but I snuggle up to Carlee and go to sleep. I wake up to cops and EMTs. So many people and all of them are talking at once. There are hands all over me. Hands prodding, patting, feeling, and pulling me up. A cop jerks my arms behind me and cuffs my wrists. The metal is cold and pinches my skin. Can you feel cold in a dream? I hear loud voices and quiet voices and phones ringing. An EMT talks to me, and I only see his lips move before I hear screaming and wailing so loud that it sounds as if it's coming from me. Hands push me down and strap me to a stretcher. I feel a sharp stick in my arm and then there's warmth flooding through me and taking me away to float through darkness towards nothing.
***
Six days after an ambulance transported me under police guard to the Bergeron County Hospital, my mind rejoined the real world, which had turned into a very ugly place for me. Losing Carlee was devastating, but my despair grew even worse when I realized that I was under arrest for causing her death.
With his version of the events leading to Carlee's death, the detective in charge of the case convinced the solicitor to bring charges against me. According to the cop, Carlee left her abusive relationship with me for the safety of her father's home. He said that I stormed into the Summers' house to take Carlee back to the farm, and when she refused to go with me, I tried to force her physically. He concluded that during our struggle, I pushed her down where she fell against the fireplace and suffered a fatal blow to her head. The solicitor believed that he could use the results of the detective's investigation to convince a jury that I was responsible for Carlee's death.
I was fortunate to spend only one night in the Bergeron County jail. The authorities had been busy while I was in the hospital and were all set for my hearing the morning after my discharge. My night in the jail could have been much worse because everyone generally treated me decently with the exception of one smartass black guard, who apparently had a chip on his shoulder from when he was in high school. Some jock must have made his life miserable because he gloated over the fact that I was in trouble. It was hard for me to ignore him when he told me that he used to be a guard in the men's state prison and that he knew what I was up against after my conviction.
I knew that the stories of assaults on young inmates were exaggerated by the entertainment industry, but I also knew that the attacks happened often enough to be of legitimate concern. I didn't need anyone to tell me that after my injuries from the car accident, I was not fit to fight one grown man in good shape much less two or more. Thoughts of prison just added to my depression and my sense of hopelessness that grew stronger each day.
Carlee's death weighed on me so much that there were times when the pressure on my chest seemed to squeeze me until I couldn't breathe. I couldn't ease the pain of losing her, and the fact that I was accused of hurting her made me want to scream loudly enough for the whole town to hear how much we loved each other. When she died, I was still grieving over the loss of Ant and my future. I was still sorting through my emotions over losing my parents before I ever had a chance to know them. I didn't think I had the strength to recover from losing Carlee too, and most days, I didn't even want to try.
Every day, I spent hours alone in my room over the barn. I thought of Carlee and tried to remember every little detail about her. I would hold her pillow to my face, smell her scent, and add my tears. Those first few weeks, I had little desire to live without her, and I thought of ending my life on my terms instead of serving time in state prison for something I didn't do. Without the support of Papa, Uncle Manny, and Tyler, I believe that I might have given up on my life.
One day when I was walking a trail with Papa, I asked him how long it took for the pain of losing his Lisa to go away. He told me that if it ever stopped hurting, he would let me know.
For the first time, I asked Papa why he had never been serious enough with another woman to marry her. I knew that he and Miss Martin were closer than mere friends were, and they were very quiet about the nights they spent together. Over the years, there had been a few mornings when I saw Miss Martin leave Papa's house early enough to get to her job, and just as many mornings when I saw Papa returning to the farm about the time that I would be waking up. He told me that his feelings for Lisa would never change enough to be fair to a wife, and that his relationship with Amy Martin was what they both wanted. Papa wouldn't say any more about his past or current love life.
Papa hired Pierce Lee to handle my case. He was a criminal defense attorney from Columbia with a good reputation in the state. I was astonished when Mr. Lee informed me that the state was charging me with attempted kidnapping and felony murder. From what the cops had told me, I thought the charge would be involuntary manslaughter at worst, but Mr. Stark, the solicitor, thought he could get a jury to buy that I was forcing Carlee to come with me against her will. Since attempted kidnapping was a felony, if she died during the commission of that crime, then by law, I was guilty of felony murder.
At the hearing, Mr. Stark proposed that the judge remand me to the custody of the county jail until after my trial, but my attorney and Papa presented a different suggestion. Judge Folk had known Papa all of his life, and when Papa guaranteed that I would remain on his property except for court appearances, the judge took his word. Papa posted bail, and I went home to Deer Lake Farm. It was easy to keep Papa's promise because I had no desire to go anywhere or see anyone.
During my first meeting with Mr. Lee, we discussed my background until he knew anything of importance about me. I gave him every detail I could remember about my nightmare, my conversation with Carlee the night before she died, and the events of the next day that ended with my arrest at Bill Summers' house. I offered him my opinion that Carlee's father might have admitted to her that he was responsible for having Ant's car run off the road. I suggested that she threatened to tell on him, and they ended up fighting. I thought he was probably afraid to let her go until he could make her promise not to talk. I proposed that Big Bill could have accidently caused Carlee to fall on the fireplace where she suffered a fatal blow to her head.
Mr. Lee said that my scenario of how Carlee died was probably right. However, he was very hesitant to build a defense that began with the notion that Bill Summers used, or had someone else use, a truck with his company name on it to run Ant's car off the road. I had to admit that it was unlikely for a smart, wealthy man to take that chance. I began to worry that a jury would never believe my story of why Carlee ended up at her father's house that day. Without Carlee's testimony about what her father said, who would believe me? Even if the information came out in court, Big Bill might have a great answer prepared by then. Mr. Lee advised that we go with a defense that we could substantiate with witnesses.
Mr. Lee and I were alone in Papa's office when I asked Papa to come in and join us. I wanted his opinion about my defense. It was the first time that I told Papa about Carlee's conversation with her father in which he stated that a truck hit Ant's car. As soon as Papa understood the issue, he killed any notion that Big Bill personally drove the truck that ran Ant and me off the road.
During the first days after the accident, a city council member asked Papa how I was doing and passed along his best wishes. The man mentioned that he had learned about the accident when he was attending a small party at Big Bill's house the same night. Someone called Summers with the news, and he apologized to his guests because he had to leave the party. He wanted to take Carlee to the hospital to check on her two classmates because he didn't want her driving on icy roads when she was upset.
I never knew that Big Bill had friends at his house that night, and I doubted that Carlee knew or she would have mentioned it during our discussion the night before she died. I didn't need any more convincing t
o tell Mr. Lee to work on a defense that had a prayer of working. We thought we could prove that Big Bill had lost his temper many times with his family over the past months and was capable of accidently hurting Carlee in the midst of one of his tantrums over her relationship with me.
Mr. Lee spent days talking to me and weeks gathering information from people who knew Carlee, her father, and me. He did his best to convince the jury that at the time of Carlee's death, our relationship was the best it had ever been, but that the same was not true for Carlee and her father. Mr. Lee provided witnesses to testify that Carlee's relationship with her father had deteriorated into one of violent arguments and that Carlee, in fact, had to leave the family home after Big Bill assaulted her. The jury learned that Carlee's mother and younger brother also left, as they had done before.
It was no surprise to me when Beth Summers testified that Big Bill had slapped her on several occasions and that she had left home with Billy Jr. three times. What I didn't know was that Big Bill had also struck Carlee, and it happened more than once. Beth witnessed one of the violent acts when Big Bill accused Carlee of secretly seeing me. After he hit Carlee, she spent the night with Tina, who said that the side of Carlee's face was still red and swollen when she arrived. I could think of several reasons why Carlee never told me about her father slapping her. For one, she probably wanted to keep me out of jail.
I already knew most of Beth Summers' story of the fight between Big Bill and Carlee right before Carlee moved into Papa's house. She announced that she was going to school with me instead of Vandy as her father wanted. Her father ordered her to stop seeing me, and she refused. According to Beth, Carlee said that she was in love with me, and that she would do whatever it took to stay with me. Big Bill exploded and accused her of lying to him all along about her relationship with me. He slapped Beth for taking Carlee's side and after more arguing, he slapped Carlee. She packed her things and left for the farm. That was when Beth and Billy, Jr. moved out for the last time.
My Name Is River Blue Page 42
