23 Miles

by Renee Mackenzie

  “I didn’t, not really,” Shay said. “I remembered how that gas station we stopped at earlier had a driveway going back behind it. While I was pumping gas, I saw one of the attendants drive behind the building and figured maybe he was going home for lunch. At the time I thought, how convenient.”

  “And maybe Winston the plumber likes things convenient as well.”

  “We’re about to find out.” Shay nodded toward a man in jeans and a dirty T-shirt working on an old Ford. She pulled up behind the Ford and said to Talia, “Look confident. Shoulders back. Handshake firm.”

  Talia followed her as she approached the man. “Hello, sir, my name is Shay Eliot.” She held out her hand and he shook it. “I’m looking for Winston.”

  “I’m Winston.” He looked at Talia.

  She followed Shay’s lead and stuck out her hand. “I’m Talia Lisher.”

  “What can I do for you ladies today?”

  “I’m a private investigator, and I’m looking for Karen Hunter,” Shay said.

  He cocked his head and studied her. “I don’t know any Karen Hunter.”

  “Don’t you live here with your girlfriend, Karen?”

  “Yeah, but her last name is Stephens.”

  “We have reason to believe her real name is Hunter.”

  “You got you some bad information, I’m afraid.”

  “Karen Hunter lived in Seaford, Virginia, until 1971.”

  “You got the wrong Karen.” He took turns cracking the knuckles on first one hand, then the other.

  Shay noticed a subtle change in his demeanor. “I don’t mean to bring y’all any trouble, it’s just important that I at least talk to Karen Stephens to make sure she isn’t also Karen Hunter.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. Karen is under the weather and won’t be seeing you today. Or any day. Please, you’ve got the wrong person. Just leave.”

  “Can you say beyond a shadow of a doubt that your Karen isn’t Karen Hunter?”

  “Well, I can say that if she was and wanted me to know about her past she would have told me.”

  “Kate Hunter thinks a body they pulled from the York River is her mom,” Talia blurted. “She thinks her mom suffered from postpartum depression and killed herself. And she’s afraid that her sister, April, is following in their mom’s footsteps.”

  “I feel bad for your friends,” Winston interrupted. “But Karen was sick. And now she’s doing pretty good and I’m not gonna let anyone or anything drag her down to that dark place she was in when I first met her.” He scuffled his foot in the dirt. “I’m sorry, but I ain’t taking any chances.”

  Shay pulled out a piece of paper and pen. “Here’s my number. If you change your mind, please give me a call.”

  “Give him mine too,” Talia said. “And write my first and last name. Mrs. Hunter was always so nice to me when I was little.”

  Shay finished writing and handed the paper to him. “Karen Hunter has two wonderful daughters and a beautiful new grandson.”

  They got back in the car and started down the dirt drive. “Do you think we’ll hear from him?” Talia asked.

  “I don’t know. I think he’s too scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Losing the love of his life to her past.”

  “So you do think we got the right person?” Talia asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  They rode in silence until Shay pulled onto the interstate.

  “That was a nice touch, the lie about being a private investigator,” Talia said.

  “I’m not sure it was as much a lie as a proclamation.”

  Talia turned in her seat to face Shay. “You thinking about becoming a PI?”

  “I do seem to have a knack for finding people.”

  “Yes, you do. And that would be very cool.”

  Shay smiled and for a moment forgot that even though they’d found Winston, they still didn’t know for sure if they’d found Mrs. Hunter or how they would actually get her to talk to them.

  “What will you tell Kate?” Talia asked.

  Shay shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  †

  “Wow,” Talia said as she approached Kate, standing beside her car. “I never know who will be waiting for me out here after work.”

  “Can we talk?” Kate asked.

  “Sure.” Talia knew she needed to face this head-on. “I was going to stop at Taco Bell on my way home. Interested?”

  “Who doesn’t love Taco Bell?” Kate said, obviously trying to keep things light.

  “We can go through the drive-through, then you can follow me to my place.”

  Twenty minutes later they had settled on each end of the sofa with their food and drinks on the rough planks of Talia’s coffee table. They took turns commenting on their appreciation for Taco Bell as they ate. After washing down her last bite of burrito, Talia asked Kate, “You’re here to talk about April?”

  “Shay told me what happened when April came by to see you.” She took a sip of her drink. “April’s had a really hard time since having the baby. I knew she was depressed, but hadn’t realized she started doing drugs again.”

  Talia felt compelled to respond in some way, so she nodded.

  “Do you know how bad the drug thing has gotten?”

  Talia thought about that. “If she was using a lot she would have some kind of connection. But each time she’s come looking to me for drugs she’s been pretty desperate.”

  “So, you’ve gotten high together more than once?”

  Total truth, Liarhead, she told herself. “No, only that one time. Another time—on Halloween—I saw her at the store and she was looking for some speed. I told her I didn’t have anything.”

  “Why has she started looking to you for drugs?”

  Talia held up her hands. “Look, I’m no dealer or anything. I think maybe she just doesn’t know where else to look, her connections have all dried up. Or maybe I’m safe. Hell, she’s a lot better off coming to me to smoke some weed than hanging around downtown Hampton or cruising the parkway.”

  When Kate turned pale at the mention of the parkway, Talia regretted her words.

  “The parkway—is that known for drug dealers?” Kate asked.

  “It’s not a big thing. It just happens to be where I find mine. Maybe she doesn’t even realize that’s an option. I sure as hell don’t plan on telling her.”

  “I don’t know what to do with her,” Kate whispered.

  “Have you thought about spending more time with her?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kate bristled.

  “Don’t get defensive on me,” Talia said. “It’s just that when we were hanging out I got the feeling she was lonely. Joey’s been working a lot of hours. Maybe she needs some company.”

  “School is kicking my butt. Other than chilling out at the bar an hour here and there, I don’t really have any spare time.”

  “Maybe you need to find the time. Or have Lana spend some time with April. Or volunteer to take Joseph overnight sometime so April and Joey can have a date night.”

  Kate leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands.

  “Maybe some weekend Shay and I can hang out with them. Or take Joseph for an evening.”

  Kate’s eyes narrowed in the manner saved for any time Talia and Shay were in the same location or sentence.

  Okay, no more easy-does-it. Talia was getting irritated with that look. “And quit with the evil eye. Shay and I are spending time together, like it or not.”

  She sat up straighter. “Oh, so now you’re seeing each other?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “What are you saying?” Kate asked.

  “I’m just saying that you’re with Lana, but you seem to have this sense of possession over Shay. It’s like you don’t want her but you don’t want anyone else to have her either.”

  “That’s absurd,” Kate said.

  “Is it? You kind of like having a backup plan
in case things don’t work out with you and Lana, don’t you?” Her voice rose with every word and she didn’t like it. She took a deep, slow breath. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want Shay and I to be together, but I really like her. And it’s okay if she doesn’t feel that way about me, but it’s not okay if you try to sabotage her happiness out of some perverse jealousy.”

  “I am not jealous of you, Liarhead Liz—”

  “Not cool, Kate, not cool.”

  “I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You’ve been trying to help with April and my mother and I’m lashing out at you. I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe we remind each other of the bad things in our childhoods.”

  “Maybe you should be studying to be the shrink,” Kate said.

  “I’ll leave that to the smart ones, thanks. But, I am on to something aren’t I?”

  “Probably. I’d like to call a truce. And as long as you don’t hurt Shay, I hope you two do get together.”

  “I’ll accept the truce. And the blessing on my maybe-relationship.”

  Kate nodded. “Are you coming to the bar for Thanksgiving dinner? They always do quite the spread.”

  “No, the penitentiary is having dinner for all the inmates and their families. Well, those families who actually visit.” Do not feel sorry for me, Talia thought. “Last year it was very nice.”

  †

  When Talia saw the white tablecloths on the tables in the visiting room, she was glad she’d put on a dressy pair of slacks and a blouse. All the visitors were dressed a little nicer than usual, but the inmates still wore their work pants and shirts.

  She saw Brian after scanning the room briefly and made her way over to him. The tables were pushed together to create three longer ones. He sat at the table closest to the buffet.

  “Tali,” he said as he stood and hugged her. “You look great.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.” She pulled off her coat as she glanced toward the food. “Well, it certainly smells great.”

  “Yeah, just stay away from the stuffing.” He took her coat from her and draped it over the chair beside the one he’d claimed for himself. He leaned close to whisper into her ear, “The cook who made the stuffing cut his finger really bad and bled all over it. They didn’t have time to start over so they stuck it in the oven as it was.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “What a shame, since the stuffing is your favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner.”

  The chatter around them lessened as a chime rang through the room. Over the intercom a voice announced that residents with the last name starting with the letter A through D would go through the buffet line first with their guests.

  A low rumble of voices started at the word ‘residents.’

  “I am so glad Mom didn’t marry that Zimmerman fellow instead of Dad,” Brian said.

  When it was their turn to go through the line, Talia followed behind Brian. She spooned spare amounts of green bean casserole, turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, and corn onto her plate. When she got to the stuffing, she hesitated.

  “What’s the matter, Tali?” Brian asked. “Still don’t know if you believe me or not?”

  “Nothing’s the matter.” She put a decent-sized portion of stuffing onto her plate.

  “Remember, it’s a crime to waste federal funds so you must eat everything you take.”

  It was not lost on her that Brian didn’t put any stuffing on his plate.

  “Don’t wait until later to get your dessert, because once the first fight breaks out the food will be taken away.”

  She wedged a slice of pecan pie between her green bean casserole and corn.

  “You have to trust me on this.” He gave her a brilliant smile. “Just because we didn’t end up with a massive riot last year doesn’t mean we won’t have one this year.”

  She hoped he didn’t have inside information; that he hadn’t manipulated some situation so that it would erupt during the holiday dinner.

  To Talia’s left, a family of three kids and a woman joined an inmate that Talia recognized from some of the visitation days. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the family on visiting days. No, he always met with a younger woman then. She was curious, but it was none of her business.

  Brian reached toward her and she thought for a second he was going to take her hand. When he reached past her for the saltshaker he asked, “What?”

  “Nothing. I thought maybe you wanted to say grace.”

  He laughed. “Nah, the Bible-thumping guards aren’t here today. Being the good Christians they are, they were given the day off to celebrate with their families.” He said the word ‘families’ as if it were a profanity.

  Back when their dad was still alive, holiday dinners were a really big deal. He would go overboard on the menu, insisting that every Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner consisted of both ham and turkey, and had a minimum of three different pies for dessert. He always put so much into the meal, and inevitably would get angry at Talia and Brian for something—any little thing—and go into a rage for the rest of the day.

  “Do you remember the last Thanksgiving dinner while Dad was alive?” Talia asked Brian.

  “Oh, yes, I do,” he said.

  “I can’t remember what it was that pissed Dad off that time.”

  He turned to face her. “Really? You don’t remember?”

  She leaned slightly away from him. “No.”

  “Oh, my God.” He slapped his hand on the table and several people looked toward them. “He got angry because you farted during dinner and instead of saying excuse me you giggled.”

  “No way,” she said. That, she would have remembered.

  “Yes. He screamed that we were a bunch of animals and didn’t deserve his great meal.”

  She did remember the animals part. She looked at her brother for a long moment. She hated that she never knew when to believe him.

  “Oh, maybe it was me who farted. And maybe I said something like, ‘There’s a kiss for you.’ Or not. Maybe it didn’t happen that way.” He winked at her.

  She took a bite of the turkey. It was good. Then she tried the green bean casserole. It was a little salty, but not bad. She sat with her fork hovering above the stuffing.

  “Go ahead. Try the stuffing.”

  She ate a bite of the mashed potatoes.

  “Seriously, Tali, aren’t you going to try the stuffing? It looks good. Extra moist.”

  She put some on her fork. She could feel him staring at her. Her fork shook slightly as she forced herself to put the stuffing in her mouth. She took a sip of water.

  “Yum,” he said.

  The couple she’d met the last time she was there sat across the room. She thought she’d catch their eye and smile but they never looked her way. They looked everywhere but toward Talia and Brian. She couldn’t help but wonder what Brian had done now. It was probably for the best though, considering they’d gotten away with conspiring to murder the guy’s wife.

  Talia turned back to her brother. “Did you ever wish you’d be invited up to Mom’s for Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked.

  Brian knitted his eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

  “Does it hurt your feelings that we were never invited to Mom’s in Pennsylvania for any holidays?”

  “But I was. Oh, wait. You weren’t?”

  “What?” Talia asked.

  “I never did get that—why Mom invited me up there all the time but didn’t want you around her new family.”

  “You’re lying.”

  He laughed. “Am I? Are you sure?”

  She stared at him.

  “Look at your face,” Brian said. “So drawn and—yeah, we definitely need to work on your poker face.”

  Talia concentrated on eating the rest of her dinner. She’d cleared her plate of everything but half of the stuffing when Brian jostled her with his elbow.

  “What?”

  He gestured toward the food line where several men in white aprons were adding food to the
serving pans. One of them had a huge bandage on his hand.

  “Do you feel a certain bond to that dude refilling the stuffing?”

  She set her fork on the side of her plate.

  “Eat your dessert, sis.”

  The expression on his face was so smug and self-satisfied that she had to resist the urge to either slap him, tell him to go to hell, leave early, or all of the above. A question formed in her mind. Psychopath or sociopath? She’d have to ask Kate about the difference between the two.

  “Not hungry?” He stuck his fork in the pie and brought it to his own plate. “Suit yourself.”

  Talia watched as her brother ate his own, then her slice of pie. She drew comfort from the thought that his lying was pathological but hers was learned. He had taught her, and she could unlearn the behavior.

  “What?” she asked, aware that she’d tuned out.

  “I’m sorry, Tali, is there someplace you’d rather be?”

  “No.” Her mind drifted to Shay and she felt her face heat up.

  “Then quit going someplace else in your mind.” He rolled his head, causing his neck to crack several times. “Now, how’s the Honda doing?”

  “It’s good. Still runs great.”

  His gaze fixed on her, a little too intensely for her comfort. “Glad to hear that.”

  “Are you still coaching the softball team?” she asked.

  “What?”

  She wanted to tell him to at least keep his stories straight, but knew it was a moot point. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Chapter Eight

  Talia ran to answer the ringing phone. She couldn’t imagine who would be calling at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. “Hello.” When there was no response, she repeated herself. “Hello?”

  She was about to hang up when a small voice asked, “Is this Talia Lisher?”

  “Ah, yeah, who’s this?” Talia asked.

  The woman cleared her throat. “My name is Karen Stephens.”

  Talia’s mouth went dry. After several seconds, she croaked out, “Mrs. Hunter.”

  “You remember me?” Kate and April’s mother asked with surprise.