“With a sociopath and a psycho-narcissist for parents, how could she go wrong?” Claire said.
“His biological sister’s still alive for the DNA test,” Maggie said. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when Gwyneth gets that subpoena.”
“Then Charlotte would be owed that sweet, sweet Eldridge money,” Hannah said.
“What about Timmy?” Maggie said.
“I guess Bonnie would get custody of Timmy and Ernie,” Hannah said. “She’s the next of kin.”
“But they’re not in any shape to raise children,” Maggie said. “They can barely get around, themselves. That leaves Scott and me. Oh, Lord. We’ll have to move to a bigger place.”
“It was a shock at first,” Claire said. “But now I can’t imagine living without our girls.”
Melissa had been so quiet that when she finally spoke, it startled them.
“I know what you’re all thinking,” Melissa said. “Olivia is Patrick’s, and he should get her.”
“Poor Will,” Delia said. “He’ll lose everybody.”
“Here’s something else to consider,” Hannah said. “I think Ava’s pregnant again.”
She told them about the pregnancy tests she’d found in Ava’s bathroom.
“This one might be Will’s,” Maggie said.
“Or Patrick’s,” Melissa said.
“Or the private investigator’s,” Hannah said.
Hannah waited until Sam put Sammy to bed and came back downstairs to the kitchen. Hannah told him about the snooping expedition at Ava’s and all they had discovered on their trip to Pennsylvania. While she spoke, he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, and scowled. She showed him the photos on Sean’s camera and gave him the copy of the police file notes. He removed the memory card and put it in his back pocket.
“Burn these,” he said about the file copies after he read through them. “Tonight.”
“So that’s everything,” Hannah said. “We know Ava killed the guy, but we don’t know what happened to his stuff. Delia is convinced Ava thought it was still in the bag she brought to the rummage sale.”
“I’ll take it from here,” Sam said.
“What will you do?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“You don’t trust me,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“I know, I know,” she said. “I can’t keep a secret, and I have a loud mouth. I just can’t stand not knowing.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Try to stay out of trouble,” he said. “And keep an eye on Melissa. I don’t think Ava’s done.”
“Whattaya mean Ava’s not done?” Hannah said. “What’s she gonna do?”
“If she doesn’t think she’s trapped, maybe nothing,” he said. “But I wouldn’t want to corner her right now if I were you.”
“Why kill Melissa?” Hannah asked. “Ava’s won, for all she knows. Melissa is not going to take Patrick back. Nor should she, if you ask me.”
“But Patrick still loves Melissa,” Sam said. “That makes her an obstacle. We all know what Ava does to obstacles.”
Hannah’s phone rang at 3:00 a.m.
“There’s somebody outside messin’ with my car,” Melissa said. “I’m too scared to go out there.”
Hannah relayed this information to Sam.
“Tell her to call the police,” Sam said. “I’m on my way.”
Hannah stayed on the phone with Melissa while she used Delia’s landline to call the police, and until Scott arrived.
“Sam pulled up right behind him,” Melissa said.
“Call me later,” Hannah said. “I’ll be up.”
Sam returned home about an hour later.
“What happened?” Hannah asked.
“Somebody tried to cut her brake lines,” he said. “Someone who didn’t know what the hell they were doing; they just cut every line under there. That car wouldn’t even have started.”
“Ava,” Hannah said.
He shrugged.
“Scott took a statement, but when he asked if she knew who might have done it, Melissa looked at me, and I shook my head, so she said she didn’t know.”
“Did you tell Scott?”
He shook his head.
“Nah, I don’t think that’s the way to approach this. Scott’s a good man, but this needs more finesse.”
“Any idea how long this finesse wagon’s gonna take to show up?”
“Not much longer now,” Sam said. “Trust me.”
Sam went to his office, and Hannah went back to bed but had trouble going back to sleep. When the phone rang, she assumed it was Melissa, but the number was not one she recognized.
“Aunt Hannah,” the voice said.
“Timmy?”
“Yeah, could you come get me?”
“Where are you?”
“At the bus station.”
“In Rose Hill?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m cold.”
Hannah was getting dressed as Sam came out of his office. She caught him up as she ran past him.
“You have to contact Ava,” Sam said. “If you don’t she can claim you’re kidnapping him.”
“Oh, shut up,” Hannah said.
Timmy was standing out of the wind, under the awning of the Dairy Chef. When he saw Hannah’s truck, he came running. When he got in on the passenger side, Hannah could see he was trembling with cold, his eyes were red from crying, and snot was running out of his nose.
“Charlotte said she’d be here, but she didn’t show up,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do.”
He dissolved into tears, and Hannah reached over to hug him. She fished behind the seat until she found a sweatshirt, and gave it to him to put on. She found a fast food paper napkin in the glove box and wiped his face with it, made him blow his nose. Once she had him buckled up, she pulled out of the parking lot.
She hated to think he had come all this way by himself; she didn’t want to think about all that could have happened to a skinny twelve-year-old boy on his own. What was Charlotte thinking standing him up like that? And where was she?
Hannah could hear his teeth chattering with cold.
“Where’s your coat?” she asked him.
“Somebody at the bus station stole it,” he said. “I sold my phone to a guy to pay for the bus ticket, and when I came back from buying it, somebody had taken my backpack and my coat.”
“Why did you run away?”
“I hate it,” he said. “I can’t take it anymore. If they make me go back, I’ll kill myself.”
He broke down in tears and Hannah patted his shoulder while she made the turn onto Possum Holler.
“We’ll fix it,” she said. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. You never have to do anything that drastic, do you understand? Nothing is ever so bad that you can’t call me and I’ll fix it for you. Do you hear me? You must never think anything is so bad that you have to do anything like that. You have so many people here who love you, and we’ll all work together to figure this out.”
“If you call my mom she’ll send me back,” he said, between hiccupping sobs. “I can’t go back.”
“You trust me, buddy, right?” she said.
He nodded.
“I’m gonna fix it,” she said. “I don’t care who I have to fight, whether it’s bare knuckles or through your Uncle Sean in court, but you will not be going back.”
Hannah had tears in her eyes as the boy sobbed his heart out. By the time they got to the farm, he was still hiccupping. She led him into the kitchen, where Sam was sitting at the table. Timmy went straight into his arms and cried some more. Hannah watched her husband’s steely façade soften as he wrapped his arms around the boy.
“Don’t worry,” he told Timmy. “Whatever it is we’ll fix it.”
It was now Hannah’s turn to raise an eyebrow at her husband.
“We’re fixing it,” he said to Hannah.
Chapter Ei
ght - Sunday
M elissa woke up when she heard Delia leave for church. She lay in bed and went over recent events in her mind. If it weren’t for Tommy sleeping in the room across the hall, she might have put her head under the covers and refused to come out.
She took a shower, got dressed, and then peeked in at him. His limbs were flung in every direction, his blankets tangled up around him. He had always been a rowdy sleeper; as a little boy, he was known to kick and punch and end up each morning at the opposite end of the bed from where he started. He was trying to grow a beard; it was coming in sparse and patchy. She leaned against the door jamb and let her eyes drink him in.
Her phone rang in the other room, and she hurried to get it before it woke him up. It was Dee Goldman.
“Johnny’s bringing your house this morning,” she said.
“By helicopter?” Melissa asked.
“He’s dropping it in Hannah’s pasture, and Curtis is going to tow it to the trailer park,” Dee said. “Levi and I are leaving now; we’ll be there in a half hour or so.”
Melissa woke Tommy and told him to get dressed.
“My house is coming!” she said.
“What?” he said, still groggy with sleep.
“My gull-dern house is coming!” she said. “We gotta get over there and clean the lot.”
Delia had left her copy of the Sunday Sentinel on the kitchen table. Melissa had completely forgotten about the story Ed had interviewed her for, but now she sat down to read it while Tommy showered and got dressed with what felt like torturous slowness.
Even though she had agreed to have it published, her face burned with embarrassment imagining all the city’s subscribers sitting at their breakfast tables, reading about the most traumatizing events of her life.
When Tommy came into the kitchen, she handed him the page with her story on it, and he hugged her.
“I knew,” he said. “Ed sent it to me a couple days ago.”
“Should I have let him do it?”
“I think you should have,” he said. “Sam told me about a therapy they use for vets with PTSD; the counselor has the vet repeat the story of the traumatic incident over and over in a safe environment until they are desensitized to the memories that used to trigger overwhelming emotions. It gives them a sense of control over it. You’re not only telling your story here, but you're also confronting one of your biggest fears: how people will react when they know your story. By doing this, you controlled the narrative, and now it’s out there; it’s not just gossip and rumors; it’s your truth.”
“Then why do I still feel so ashamed?”
“You need to tell it some more times,” Tommy said. “It might be a good idea to get a counselor to help guide you through it.”
“How’d you get so smart?”
“I had a great group of people who brought me up,” he said.
They bundled up, left a note for Delia, and walked briskly down the street, their breath a frozen vapor trail left behind them as they went.
Tommy hadn’t yet seen the remnants of their burned trailer. They stopped at the edge of their property, and she put her arm around her son.
“I can’t believe it’s gone,” he said. “Have you looked to see if there’s anything left?”
She shook her head.
“I can’t,” she said. “But you go on if you want to. Just be careful of all the broken glass.”
As Tommy gingerly made his way through the rubble, Melissa took a deep breath. She didn’t have time to wallow in the past, even the recent past. She took the weed eater she had borrowed from Delia’s house and tackled the overgrown, vacant trailer space to the right of her burned-out mess.
By the time she had the space cleared, had identified where the water connects and the sewage drain were, Maggie, Scott, Claire and Ed had arrived.
“Where're the kids?” Melissa asked.
“They’re with my mom,” Claire said. “Ava and Will decided to go out of town for a few days, and we’re keeping them.”
“Where to?” Melissa asked.
“Canada,” Claire said.
“She’s running away,” Melissa said.
Maggie shook her head at Melissa and then gestured at Scott.
“It’s just a quick vacation,” Ed said. “Will said he had this planned as a birthday surprise.”
“If he had this planned then why didn’t he have childcare lined up before this morning?” Claire asked.
“They have a nanny,” Melissa said.
“What are you talking about?” Scott asked.
“Nothing,” Maggie said. “Never mind.”
“You know, this jealousy you all have of Ava is ridiculous,” Scott said. “I don’t understand why you can’t let it go.”
“You’re right, honey,” Maggie said. “We need to just let it go. Let it go, Melissa.”
“You go first,” Melissa said. “Then you, Claire.”
“When my husband tells me I should do something, I do it right away,” Maggie said. “Consider it let go.”
“Me, too,” Claire said. “If I had a husband, that is.”
“Very funny,” Scott said to Ed. “What’s going on?”
Ed shrugged, and the cousins joined Tommy in the search through the trailer rubble.
“You doing okay?” Ed asked Melissa.
“No,” she said. “But I’m breathing, I’m on my feet, and I’m moving forward.”
“That’s good,” he said.
“How are you doing with all them kids?”
“It’s crazy and hectic and nonstop,” he said. “But I love it.”
Someone shouted and pointed up toward Peony Street, where Hannah’s dad’s wrecker was towing the trailer with Melissa’s little house down the hill, with Hannah following in her truck. Johnny Johnson and Barlow Owsley were sitting on the edge of the truck bed, and Johnny waved at Melissa.
“Who is that?” Ed asked her.
“My hero,” Melissa said and ran toward the truck.
Johnny supervised as Curtis backed the little house onto the spot Melissa had chosen. Barlow stood off to the side, his arms crossed; a scowl on his face that Melissa could tell meant he didn’t want anyone to talk to him.
It didn’t stop her.
“You’ve done such a great job,” Melissa said to him. “I sure do appreciate you all gettin’ this ready on such short notice.”
Barlow nodded but did not make eye contact.
“I figure I can sell these things as fast as you can make them,” she said.
He nodded again.
“Barlow!” Johnny called, and the young man jumped and ran.
They detached the trailer from the truck, and Curtis pulled the wrecker away to park it. Johnny sent Barlow underneath the trailer with a tape measure, and Barlow called out numbers that Johnny wrote on a scrap of paper. Melissa walked up to him.
“My esteemed colleague is giving me the measurements for the PVC we need to buy,” Johnny said. “If your local hardware establishment is open today we should be able to get the water and waste pipes connected. I brought some propane for the stove. You’ll probably have to wait until tomorrow to get the electric company to send someone out. Do they meter everyone separately here?”
“They do,” Melissa said.
“Nice place you have here,” he said. “Who are all these people?”
Melissa looked around, at the friends and neighbors who had gathered, all offering to help. Maggie was handing out go-cups of coffee from the bookstore, and Bonnie was offering everyone pastries from bakery boxes. Dee and Levi Goldman were conversing with Bruce and Gloria; Tommy was showing Sammy something on his phone that was making them both laugh.
“Family, friends, and neighbors,” she said.
“You certainly are blessed,” Johnny said.
“I am,” Melissa said.
By dinner time, the water and waste pipes were connected and working, and the little propane heater was quickly heating up the interior. Everyone had t
aken the little house tour, and Johnny was the recipient of many questions and compliments.
“Everybody is invited to the bakery for supper,” Bonnie told them. “It will be pieced together, but nobody will go home hungry.”
The crowd broke up, and Melissa looked for Johnny, who was talking to Sam. Tommy and Barlow Owsley were playing ball with Sammy, using a piece of wood and a pine cone.
“Hey,” Hannah said, as she approached Melissa. “Nice house.”
“Thank you,” Melissa said. “I can hardly believe it’s mine.”
“Nice house builder, too,” Hannah said. “Claire, Maggie, and I all agree when we say hubba hubba.”
“Stop,” Melissa said. “It’s not like that.”
“Patrick wanted to come, but I told him not to,” Hannah said. “He might be at the dinner, though.”
“Thanks,” Melissa said. “You know, I must be getting over it, ‘cause I hadn’t thought of him once today.”
“Not even once?”
“Well, maybe a little,” Melissa said. “But nothing like I would have before.”
“Sam’s over there recruiting your boyfriend for the vet rehab program,” Hannah said.
When Melissa approached, she could hear Sam telling Johnny about a new therapy.
“Hey,” Melissa said. “Y’all going to come eat or what?’
“Sorry,” Sam said to Johnny. “I get carried away talking about it. If you ever want to check it out, come on down to the community center. I’d love to show you around.”
“Thank you,” Johnny said and shook Sam’s hand. “It sounds like you’re doing a great job. I’m not much of a joiner, as they say, and I’m not comfortable with crowds of people, but I’ll definitely come and see it sometime.”
Hannah grabbed Sam by the hand and pretended to drag him away.
“I’m starving,” she said. “I wanna get there before all the good stuff is gone.”
Melissa stood with Johnny and watched as they left.
“Are you comin’ to dinner?” she asked him.
“No, I don’t believe I will,” he said. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the invitation, or that I’m averse to spending more time in your lovely company. I just get fidgety around so many people, and Mr. Owsley is ten times worse.”
Pumpkin Ridge (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 10) Page 18
