Livvie's Song

by Sharlene MacLaren

  Alex and Nathan filled her thoughts, as did Will. By now, they must have realized she had gone missing and were surely looking for her. Please, Lord, grant wisdom and discernment to everyone searching for me. Lead them straight to me, Father. How she longed for this ordeal to be nothing more than a dream, to awaken and find herself at home, safe and sound. But the pain she felt from the ropes tied around her wrists and ankles and over her mouth confirmed the wretched reality: someone dark and sinister had put her in this awful place.

  The heat was stifling, but she managed to doze, even though she jerked awake at the slightest sound. Every time she was roused from slumber, she fought down a new wave of panic and regained her mental footing with a fervent prayer before drifting off again. But then, the dread moment arrived—footsteps pounded the earth outside—and her nerves stood on end, freezing her blood like icicles, so that she couldn’t breathe. Eyes anchored to the doorknob, she watched it turn, her heart thudding hard inside her chest.

  A big, flabby fellow came through the door, but the dimness of the room prevented her from making out his facial features. Oh, Lord, who is he? And what does he want with me? Please protect me, Father.

  “Wull, there you are, still lookin’ as purty as a flower,” he said in a croaky voice. He turned his back to her and peered outside in all directions before closing the door.

  When he turned and stepped out of the shadows to advance on her, a gasp heaved past her slightly parted lips. It was him—the man with the gash across his cheek, Will’s former acquaintance, Clem Dodd.

  “You remember me? We hooked eyes outside your rest’rant one night, and then another time when I watched you from the alley. I been followin’ you ’round town, learnin’ your schedule. You’re a busy li’l thing, aren’t ya? I bought you that dress, in case you were wonderin’, but, I got to say, it wounded me plenty to see you take it back. Didn’t you like it?” He paused for several seconds and studied her, his eyes moving over her body. “I hope you read my note.” She knew enough to nod. “Aw, don’t look so worried. You’re safe with me, long as you behave yourself. Sorry I had to knock you out back there. You got to know, I had no choice. Don’t think you would’ve come too willingly otherwise.”

  “Mmmm,” she moaned.

  He hunkered down next to her, and the smell of his rancid breath nearly made her retch. A wily grin revealed that a tooth was missing from his top row. “That Marva lady sure had you goin’, didn’t she, enticin’ you with that photo? Bet you’re wantin’ to see it, ain’t ya? She shore is hateful toward you, I’ll say that much. Personally, I think she’s a little loony.” He pointed a stubby finger at his temple and moved it in a circular motion. “You get my drift?”

  Rather than respond, she merely stared into his glassy eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out in her face, giving her another urge to retch. “Anyways, Marva gave me the photo. Said I should show it to you. Wanna see it?”

  She gave no indication that she did, but he pulled it from his rear pocket, anyway, and stuck it under her nose.

  She strained to make out the details. When the picture came into focus, her stomach clenched in a thousand knots.

  “Reco’nize it?” he asked. “Marva says it’s a picture of your old house, ’fore it burned. It’s funny,” he went on, peering at the photo, “but I don’t even know that idiot woman, and she blabbed all manner o’ stuff to me. ’Course, she was drunker than a mule at the time.” A deep frown quickly etched itself into his damp brow, and he pulled up his sleeve. “See this?” He stuck out his beefy arm to reveal a wide, bloody gash. “That blasted dog bit me, and it hurts to the moon. I ought to’ve killed ’im right then, but Marva gave ’im a good whack on the head, instead. Knocked ’im out cold.

  “But, back to this here picture.” He studied it again. “I bet you don’t know that her daddy’s the one who set your house ablaze.”

  What? She jerked her head back. Her dizzied senses were barely registering anything. Had she heard him correctly?

  “Yeah, just what I thought.” His eyes gleamed with some kind of sick satisfaction.

  As she focused her thoughts, misgivings swirled in her mind. The investigators had determined that a spark from her family’s wood-burning stove had started the fire that had swept through their home and burned it to the ground in minutes. To her knowledge, arson had never been considered.

  When Clem reached up and fingered a lock of her hair, another scream caught in the back of her throat and stuck there like an immovable rock. She gave a sudden twist of her head to toss his hand off of her, but he held on. “Seems your daddy had eyes for Marva’s mama. Did you know that?” He gave a sinister chortle. “Broke up her folks’ marriage, accordin’ to Marva.”

  She stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

  “And Marva says she’s still got notes your daddy wrote to her mama. Ain’t that somethin’? I bet you’d like to read ’em.”

  Spasmodic trembling overtook her, and she groaned.

  “I s’pose you’re wantin’ me to untie that rope at the back of your head, huh? Well, I guess I could, but you can’t scream none, you hear? ’Cause, if you do, I’ll jest be forced to put it back on—only tighter.”

  She gave a quick nod, and he untied the rope. After stretching her mouth several times, she started pleading. “Please, just let me go, and I won’t talk to anyone about any of this. I need to go home to my boys. I know they’re missing me something fierce. I promise you, I’ll keep my mouth buttoned tight.” Her knees took on a life of their own, bouncing up and down.

  “Yeah?” He lowered his head, making three chins out of one with the simple move. “Even around Will Taylor? I’m afraid I don’t believe you, honey. I saw you two kissin’ down at the river. Blame near made me sick.”

  “I won’t even tell Will. I promise.”

  “I know you won’t, ’cause you’re gonna forget all about ’im.” He touched her hair again. “He ain’t worth your time, sweetheart. I’m gonna help you forget ’im. Look!” He swept out his arm, indicating the room. “I done collected enough supplies to last us a good long while, you ’n’ me. We’re gonna be real happy together, you’ll see. In a couple o’ days, we’ll get married—well, maybe not in the legal sense, but you know what I mean. Don’t you worry, though; I’ll give you a chance to get used to things first.”

  Beads of sweat popped out all over her body, and she squirmed in the chair. “But, I have to—to—”

  “Oh!” He opened his mouth, revealing several decayed teeth she hadn’t noticed before. “There’s a privy out back. I’ll take you.” He bent down, as if preparing to free her ankles, but then stopped and cast her a wary glance. Long clumps of greasy, brown hair fell across his bloodshot eyes. “You wouldn’t try any funny business, now, would you? I’d hate to have to hurt you, darlin’.”

  She bit her lower lip and shook her head several times.

  “That’s right.”

  Once her ankles were free, he took her by the arm and pulled her up. Her legs nearly buckled, but she caught herself. “What about my hands? I can’t very well…you know….”

  He chortled and dipped his face low, so that she had to endure that awful breath again. “I’ll untie you at the door to the privy. You’ll do your business, and then I’ll tie you up again. Understand?”

  She wanted to spit in his face, but she knew that the small satisfaction she’d gain would not be worth the consequences. “Yes,” she managed.

  Outside, she stumbled along a bumpy path lit only by the moon and Clem’s low-voltage flashlight. His fingers dug so deeply into her arm, she imagined the blood flow stopping at each pressure point. In the distance, a dog barked, and crickets and tree frogs joined in a chorus of summer tunes. How she longed to break free and sprint through the tall grass. She could outrun him; she was sure of it. She could also scream, but for what purpose? There wasn’t a single house in sight; her wails would be heard only by nighttime creatures. As they navigated the path, she tried to take
in her surroundings, but it was too dark to see much of anything.

  “All right now, sweetheart,” he said when they reached the outhouse. “I’ll unfasten your hands, but don’t even think of tryin’ anything. I didn’t wanna have to show you this, but, well, see what I got here?” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a pistol.

  “I see it,” she muttered, determined not to show the wave of terror that coursed through her. She pulled the handle on the outhouse door, which squeaked on its hinges, stepped inside, and closed the door behind her. Inside, she felt for a lock but found none.

  Silent, salty tears rolled down her cheeks and moistened her dry lips. As she stood in the musty-smelling structure, listening to crickets chirp in the distance, she begged the Lord to give her strength and courage. Somehow, she knew that if she had any hope of getting through this alive, she had to keep her wits about her.

  ***

  The search party of volunteer townsfolk had set off in groups of two and three to canvass the homes of Wabash, pounding on doors and, in many cases, waking up slumbering households to ask if anyone knew something about Olivia Beckman’s whereabouts or had spotted any suspicious persons in the area. So far, every response had been negative, and, as the evening slipped away, Will felt his anxiety grow tenfold. The teams had been instructed to report back to the sheriff’s office every two hours to give an account of their progress, and it was at one such gathering that Quinn Baxter approached him to say that he’d taken Alex and Nathan to the home of Howard and Margie Grant.

  “Good. How were they?” Will asked.

  “They were pretty quiet on the way out, but when they saw their aunt, they ran into her arms, bawlin’ like two lost sheep. I felt bad for the little fellas.”

  Will’s heart swelled just envisioning it. “What about Margie? How’s she taking all this?”

  “She’s pretty upset but puttin’ on a strong front for the boys.”

  He glanced across the room at Howard, who was engaged in conversation with the sheriff, his shoulders sagging wearily. “She and Howard raised Livvie after her parents perished in that house fire. They’re bound to be worried sick. What about Coot? How’d he react to the news?”

  “He’s troubled, o’ course, but full of faith and confidence that we’ll find her, and that God will keep her safe in the interim.” Quinn scratched the top of his head. “Strangest thing, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That hound of his. When I dropped the boys off at their aunt and uncle’s, the mutt leaped out of the car and took off, sniffin’ the ground, and then ran all around the yard and out behind the house. Next thing I know, he disappears into a cornfield. Coot didn’t seem too ruffled over it. Said he’s more concerned about Livvie’s safety, and that ol’ Reggie will find his way back home soon enough. Hope he’s right. The pooch did have quite the bump on his head.”

  That dog had been acting plumb peculiar lately, sticking close to Livvie’s side as if she were his master instead of Coot, and his jumping out of the car and racing into unfamiliar territory at the Grants’ confirmed that something strange was up. Were Will’s earlier conjectures true? Did Reggie have a sixth sense about something?

  His thoughts were interrupted when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and found himself face-to-face with Silas Brown, a good friend of Gus Anderson’s who had become a lunchtime regular at Livvie’s Kitchen. “Hi, Silas,” he said.

  “Hello, Mr. Taylor. I got somethin’ to tell you.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “It’s probably nothin’, but, then again, it could be somethin’.”

  Will noticed that everyone was getting ready to resume the search, and he was impatient to join them. “I’m listening,” he said, shifting his weight to the other foot.

  “Well, it’s just that I overheard Marva Dulane and Livvie talkin’ today at the restaurant.” He rubbed his jaw with a callous hand. “Marva mentioned somethin’ ’bout havin’ some ol’ photograph o’ Livvie ’n’ Frank. Livvie seemed pretty excited, and Marva tol’ her she’d drop it off. Now, that don’t mean she planned to bring it by tonight or nothin’, but I just thought it was a slim possibility Marva might know somethin’ about Livvie, even though I never did trust that woman. Anyway, I got to thinkin’ it couldn’t hurt tellin’ you what I heard.”

  Will laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m much obliged, Silas.”

  The man nodded and walked off.

  “You ready to go out again?” Gus asked. Howard stepped up alongside him, looking antsy. The three of them had made a good team so far and were probably more determined than any other group to find Livvie. In fact, in their determination, neither Gus nor Howard had brought up the matter of his prison stint, which was a relief. The last thing Will needed was to waste his energies on coming up with an explanation. Right now, he needed to focus entirely on finding Livvie. And what he’d just heard from Amos was occupying a large part of his mind right now.

  “You two go on ahead, if you don’t mind. I have a hunch about something, and I’m going to look into it.”

  “What sort of a hunch?” Howard asked.

  “I doubt it’ll even hold water. I’ll tell you about it later when we meet up again.” He didn’t want to involve Gus and Howard in something that could get messy.

  Ignoring their protests, he scanned the room for Quinn Baxter, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted him. “Quinn!” he called. The man turned at his name, and Will waved, then looked at Gus and Howard once more. “I’ll talk to you later. I need to catch up with Quinn.”

  With that, he left the men standing there, blank expressions on their faces.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work.”—James 3:16

  This is it,” Quinn said, cutting the engine of his Model T. “As you can see, it isn’t much more than a shack. Marva grew up in this little house and never left it. Even brought both her husbands here to live. Neither one of ’em ever provided for her, though, just moved in and mooched off of her. She never did learn the art of stickin’ with one man.”

  Will studied the house, lit by the car’s headlights, which Quinn had left illumined.

  “Sad thing about Marva,” he continued, “she never had a good family life. Her daddy beat her mama on a regular basis, brutal man.”

  “Why didn’t she take Marva and get away from him?”

  “She had nowhere to turn, from what I heard, and Marva’s daddy had a lot o’ control. He wanted her and everyone in town to know he was in charge. He had that ‘Don’t nobody mess with me’ kind o’ mentality. So, folks mostly left him alone, includin’ his missus.”

  Will shook his head.

  “I heard there was a man who once tried to step in and help, offered to move Marva and her mama to a safe place in another state.”

  “Really? Who was that?”

  He shrugged and turned off the headlights, so that Marva’s house was lit only by a single light in a front window. “Can’t say as I ever knew the name. I was a youngster with a million things on my mind when I heard that, so, I s’pose it didn’t interest me much. Marva was probably seven or eight at the time.”

  “She must be around Livvie’s age, then.”

  “Yeah, they went to school together, but I can’t say whether they were in the same grade. Don’t think they were ever what you’d call friends, either. They ran in different circles. Marva had her eye on the boys from a real young age.”

  Will almost felt sorry for Marva. Shoot, if nobody who had suffered abuse or neglect as a child did a thing to reverse the downward spiral of bitterness and baggage passed down from his parents, the world would be a grand mess. His own childhood had been nothing to brag about, particularly after Joella’s drowning accident, after which he’d felt forever despised by his parents. But, by the grace of God, he’d pulled himself out of that ditch of despair and now even thanked God for all he’d had to endure in
order to find a place of deliverance and restoration.

  “Thanks for bringing me out here,” he said to Quinn. “Hope you don’t mind waiting. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  “Sure. But you should take whatever information you can and get out of there. I wouldn’t be caught dead with Marva Dulane. She can ruin a man’s reputation faster ’n you can spell a two-letter word. Matter of fact, why don’t I go in there with you?”

  “No, thanks. It would probably make her feel like we were ganging up on her. Don’t think I won’t motion at you if I need reinforcements, though.” With a wink, he opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating humidity.

  He knocked once on the door, watching through a slit in the front curtain for a sign of Marva. Seconds later, a light turned on inside, and he saw her approaching, dressed in a purple satin gown that thankfully covered her front. It looked like she had dolled herself up, as if she were expecting him—or someone, anyway. Once again, Potiphar’s wife came to mind, and, in the seconds before she opened the door, Will said a silent prayer for wisdom, guidance, and strength to resist the urge to strangle her.

  “Will,” she cooed, taking him by the arm and pulling him inside. “I thought you might come.” Before closing the door, she peered out at the driveway. “Who’s in the car?”

  “Quinn Baxter.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t you tell him to leave? I’ll drive you home later.”