When You Come Back

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When You Come Back Page 27

by Webb, Debra


  No amount of wishing will change what happened.

  Now I have to do the thing part of me has wanted to do for twenty-five years. Yet, to do so was to admit that Natalie was never coming back. Once I discovered she wasn’t, I couldn’t do this part for other reasons—one being the fact that I had no idea where her body was. I only knew that she was in a cave somewhere.

  This morning shortly after Emma left, Chief Claiborne called and told me that Natalie’s remains would be released to me tomorrow.

  I can now make her final arrangements.

  First thing after leaving the post office I drove to the cemetery and shared the news with Andrew. Our girl will finally be laid to rest next to him. When we chose our headstone, we selected one for Natalie as well. I wasn’t sure if her remains would ever be found but if they were, I wanted her final resting place to be ready when the time came. The headstone will be delivered this afternoon.

  I park in front of the funeral home and take a deep breath. This part is one I haven’t done. A sense of excitement stirs inside me. Although there is no body to dress, I bring Natalie’s favorite dress and the shoes that match. I even bring the little pink purse that she adored. And I have her necklace, the one she was wearing when she died. The bastard stole it from her and I intend for her to have it back.

  Mr. Harlowe is waiting for me inside. I called and made sure he was available this morning. He had an appointment in Huntsville but he canceled it to meet with me. I appreciate his flexibility. I also trust him to help me make the best choices. I have waited a very long time to bring my daughter home.

  I want everything to be perfect.

  The brisk spring air cools my too warm face as I emerge from the car. I’ve tried awfully hard not to cry, but it’s impossible. I retrieve the bag that contains Natalie’s things from the backseat and square my shoulders.

  As I walk toward the entrance another vehicle pulls into the lot. The familiar idle of the engine has me turning back to look. Andrew’s truck sits beside my car. Emma bounds out of the driver’s side door and rushes toward me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? If Letty’s mom hadn’t called her, I…” She shakes her head.

  No more crying. My eyes refuse to obey the command. “I didn’t want to bother you. I saw you and Letty on the news. I’m so glad those girls are safe.”

  I realize tears are slipping down my cheeks but I cannot stop them. I dab futilely at them with my mother’s handkerchief. It’s the same one I used at Andrew’s funeral Mass.

  Emma hugs me tight. “I want to do this with you,” she whispers in my ear.

  We cry together for a few moments before drawing apart.

  “Come along,” I say. “Mr. Harlowe is waiting.”

  Together Emma and I select a beautiful pearl white coffin with a pale pink lining for Natalie. Mr. Harlowe was kind enough to arrange for Lisa from the Jackson Falls Floral Shop to be at our meeting. We select flowers and decide to have the funeral Mass on Monday at ten. I’ve already checked the date with Jake and he promised to see that the community knows about the arrangements. Lisa kindly offers to call a local caterer who will take care of the refreshments at the house after the burial.

  As we leave the funeral home, Emma and I hug again.

  “Thank you so much for doing this with me,” I say. “It means more than you know.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? She was my sister. Of course I wanted to help.”

  My sweet Emma. I look at her and her beauty takes my breath. I want so desperately for her to be happy. I don’t want her to suffer any more nightmares. I want her to put this behind her and to move on, but she refuses until this is done.

  I want so to end this here and now but I cannot risk Ginny’s future, not to mention what it would do to Letty. If Ginny and I could only find a way to prove what we know the risk might be worth it.

  “I have to meet Letty,” Emma says.

  “I hope the two of you are being careful,” I remind her.

  She nods but I know she’s not listening.

  Before turning away, she hesitates and asks, “At any time during the school year before that day,” she begins, “did Natalie mention anything about Stacy having trouble?”

  I think back, trying to recall but nothing comes to mind. “I don’t remember anything being said. Why do you ask?”

  “I just remembered Stacy crying on the bus. Natalie was comforting her. Mr. Caldwell mentioned that Stacy had some difficulty that year. Maybe what he said triggered the memory. It might have been around Thanksgiving.”

  “I can’t remember anything but girls that age often keep secrets from their mothers. Do you think this has something to do with what happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Emma shakes her head. “Mr. Caldwell mentioned Stacy’s trouble that year—depression and falling grades. Mallory had that falling out with Natalie and Stacy. Three different people have suggested that Natalie was somehow involved with an older man, perhaps a teacher, and Mr. Brewer witnessed an incident between Natalie and Mr. Beaumont.”

  The more Emma says the more terrified I grow. “Why haven’t you mentioned any of this before?” My voice sounds hollow. My knees feel weak.

  She shrugs. “It just all came together this morning. There’s something there, I can feel it. I think their disappearance leads back to what was happening at school.”

  “I am certain Natalie was not involved with any older man.” I bite my tongue at how bitter the words sound. “As for any trouble the girls had that year, Natalie never said a word except maybe once she mentioned being disappointed in Mallory.” I shrug. “Thinking back, I think maybe Stacy was at our house around Thanksgiving that year, but I assumed she and her father were having a little trouble. It happens with teenagers. Especially considering she’d lost her mother around that same time the year before. But how in the world is any of that possibly relevant anyway?”

  Emma searches my face and eyes and I know she’s wondering why I would be angry or maybe she recognizes my lies. I’ve decided she is very good at spotting untruths.

  “I don’t know how it’s relevant yet, but think about it. Mallory states in her interview with the police that Natalie is involved with an older man. A statement she later recanted. Now Mallory’s daughter is married to one of the Beaumont sons and her other daughter is on the city council, her win sealed by Lorraine’s support. A tense exchange was witnessed between Matthew Beaumont and Natalie at school. Natalie disappeared and Matthew had a terrible accident followed almost immediately by his son Mark being rushed off to rehab. Oh and let’s not forget that Lorraine warned me that actions have consequences. Seems to me the one common denominator in all of those things is the Beaumont name.”

  My heart rises into my throat.

  “Gotta go, but if you think of anything call me.”

  I wave to my daughter as she drives away, then I sag against my car, my legs like rubber. Somehow my hand finds my cell deep in my purse. I call Ginny. When she answers it is all I can do to say the words.

  “We can’t wait any longer.”

  31

  EMMA

  I find Letty back at the farm.

  “Sorry,” I say as I close the door. My heart is still heavy from making the selections at the funeral home.

  Letty looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “What’re you apologizing for? You needed to be with Helen.”

  I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “What happened with Yarbrough?”

  “Claiborne arrested him for obstructing an official police investigation and harboring minors. I don’t think he’ll do any time. Probation for sure. The parents can always file civil suits. He made a mistake but it was a doozy.”

  “I’m just glad the girls are okay.”

  Letty waves her arms over the table and the pages and photos stacked there. “All of this comes down to just a few loose ends. First, we have Mallory and Mr. Caldwell saying that Stacy was having trouble that school year.”

  “Helen say
s she didn’t know anything about that. She did remember that Stacy was at our house more often than usual around that time. She thought there was trouble at home.” She also sounded odd to me. I am more convinced than ever that Helen knows something she isn’t sharing.

  Letty nods. “Then we have Mr. Brewer saying he witnessed a tense exchange between Natalie and Mr. Beaumont. Add to that the couple of folks who suggested Natalie was involved with an older man and Lorraine’s threats about consequences.”

  “Like I told Helen,” I speak up, “The common denominator is the Beaumont family.”

  “You would make a good cop.” Letty grins. I laugh.

  “Seriously, my money would be on Matthew Beaumont,” I confess. “Except for that accident. The runner up, in my opinion, is Mark.”

  “The accident is the one hitch,” Letty agrees. “In fact,” she picks up a report lying in front of her, “I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about that hitch.”

  I feel sure part of what kept her awake was the damned vandalism at her mother’s home. I wonder if Lorraine Beaumont would stoop to vandalism. She’d probably just pay one of her minions to do it.

  “So,” Letty says, “I reviewed the accident report again,” she looks at me, “and again. I thought about what old man Pike said about when he got the call to pick up the car and what I found was a disconnect. When an officer or a deputy is called to the scene of an accident, one of the things he does is call the wrecker service. Why would Pike have gotten the call so late if Deputy Leo Tubbs was on the scene by four?”

  A new anticipation ignites inside me. “You think the police report was doctored?”

  Letty stares at the paper in her hand. “I hate to think such a thing. Tubbs was a good cop. Retired about five years ago, died last year. He was the first one on the scene when my dad…” She hesitates, lost in the memories. “He held me so tight. Kept whispering to me that everything would be okay while my mom screamed in the background.” Her eyes, dark and heavy with emotion, meet mine. “Your mom and dad cleaned up the mess so that when we got back home the next day it was like it never happened. We spent the night at your house, remember?”

  I squeeze her hand. “I do. Mother let us watch TV until we fell asleep.”

  “Anyway.” Letty clears her throat, scrubs at her eyes with her sleeve. “I did a little digging while you and Helen were taking care of business.”

  My stomach rumbles. I realize it’s after two o’clock and breakfast was a very long time ago. I’m betting Letty hasn’t stopped for lunch either. “Keep talking. I’ll make peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “Good idea.”

  She watches a moment as I smear the crunchy blend on the bread. I imagine she’s having trouble suggesting Deputy Tubbs falsified the accident report. Understandable. Cops don’t want to believe other cops would do such a thing.

  “Six months before the Beaumont accident, Mrs. Tubbs fell off a ladder at her home and injured her spine. She spent a good long while in the hospital. In the end she was paralyzed from the waist down. They were drowning in medical bills. Suddenly, about two months after Beaumont’s accident, all the medical bills were taken care of and the Tubbs’s mortgage was paid in full.”

  “Shit.” I bring the sandwiches wrapped in paper towel to the table. “So the Beaumonts paid him off.”

  “Looks that way to me.”

  “How did you find out about the mortgage and the bills?”

  “When Mom started delivering mail, she used to hand carry their mail to the door. Mrs. Tubbs didn’t get a lot of company so she would inevitably talk a mile a minute to Mom. She went on and on about how they would have lost everything if it hadn’t been for the department raising all that money for them.”

  I frown. “I thought you said the Beaumonts paid the bills.”

  Letty’s lips spread into a sly smile. “I called the one deputy who was friends with my father and asked him about that fundraiser. He confirmed what she said, except they raised less than a thousand dollars. Not nearly enough to pay off medical bills and a mortgage.”

  “Deputy Tubbs is dead. How do we prove any of this?” I take a bite of my sandwich.

  Letty takes a couple of bites of hers before she answers. “Maybe his wife will talk.”

  “Won’t hurt to ask,” I say.

  “Won’t hurt,” Letty agrees.

  I glance around the room. “What happened with Agent what’s his name? The ABI guy who worked the case twenty-five years ago?”

  “He called me this morning.” Letty goes to the fridge and grabs a can of Pepsi. “His brother-in-law passed away and he had to leave for Chicago. He said he’d check in with us when he’s back home.”

  I guess he wasn’t a spy after all. “So it’s just you and me again.”

  Letty pops the top on the can. “It was always just you and me, but don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

  * * *

  Clare Tubbs lives in the same house she and her husband purchased forty years ago when they first married. They raised their daughter and son here and this is the same house she was attempting to paint when she had her fall.

  This reminds me that I’m supposed to be painting Mother’s house. I guess she wasn’t trying to scare me when she mentioned the woman who fell off the ladder. Tubbs appears to be about the same age as Helen. She handles the wheelchair well and her home, a neat rancher, is handicap equipped. Framed photos of her children and grandchildren fill the mantel and any available flat surface.

  We’ve declined tea and listened through her life story. We’ve talked about how good it is that Natalie and Stacy can finally be laid to rest and what good news it is that the Baldwin and Shepherd girls were found. I hope she remains as talkative when she finds out why we’re really here.

  “Mrs. Tubbs,” Letty says, “do you remember when Mr. Matthew Beaumont had his accident? You know, it was that same day of the bus accident?”

  The older woman stares at Letty for a long moment before she answers. “I do.”

  “I found an inconsistency in the accident report and I was hoping you might remember something your husband said about that day? Maybe with the bus crash and all that happened, things got mixed up.”

  I’m impressed with Letty’s approach. When my attention rests on Tubbs once more I see that she is not so impressed.

  “I wondered how long it would be before someone came along asking about that day.”

  Letty and I exchange a look

  “What do you mean, Mrs. Tubbs?” Letty asks.

  Since Clare Tubbs is a cop’s wife, it’s better for Letty to handle all the questions. I keep my mouth shut and sit here as a reminder of my lost sister.

  “First off,” Tubbs says, “this is completely off the record. I ain’t saying another word until we’re all clear on that.”

  “We’re clear,” Letty says.

  “Clear,” I agree.

  “I saw the news this morning.” Tubbs looks at Letty for a while before she continues. Somehow a news crew managed to snap a few photos of her mother’s home before we were able to cover up those hateful words. “You’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes things just have to be done a certain way or they get confused and the right thing is done for the wrong reasons or vice versa.”

  Letty nods.

  I stare, wondering if what she is about to tell us will be the thing we need to find the truth. I guess it depends upon whether she sees the truth as the right thing.

  “That day was one of those times. My husband was a good man, a good cop. He did what he was told and respected the chain of command even when he didn’t agree with it. Except once.”

  My heart thuds. All we need is one piece of corroborating evidence.

  “What happened that once?” Letty’s voice is gentle.

  “He refused to obey a direct order.”

  The realization that Claiborne was the sheriff back then is not lost on me.

  “Life was difficult for us at the time. I’d fallen o
ff that damned ladder and the medical bills were eating us alive. We were on the verge of losing our home.” She shook her head. “We were desperate. I’m the reason he changed his mind and did what he didn’t want to do.”

  “Is that why all your medical bills went away and your mortgage was paid?”

  “Well,” she adjusts her hands in her lap, “I don’t know where those things came from. We received all sorts of donations from anonymous sources and there was that department fundraiser. Money just kept showing up at the door so I can’t rightly say why or how.”

  “What time did Deputy Tubbs receive the call about Mr. Beaumont’s accident?”

  “Six-thirty. He had just come home to get a heavier coat. He was going out to help with the search.”

  The ability to breathe deserts me.

  “You’re certain of the time?” Letty asks.

  “Positive. I had an appointment with the physical therapist at four twice a week. I had to make the appointments late in the day so my daughter could drive me after school. That day I was feeling particularly bad so we got barbecue on the way home. By the time we got to the house it was quarter after six. The kids had me in the house by the time Leo stopped for his coat. That was the first we heard about the bus accident. I remember looking at the clock and thinking how it would be pitch dark soon and those girls would be out there all alone. Leo said he didn’t have time to eat, he had to get out there and help find those lost girls.”

  She looks at me as she says this.

  “But dispatch called Deputy Tubbs before he could join the search?”

  Tubbs shakes her head. “Sheriff Claiborne called him.”

  “You’re sure it was Claiborne?” The tension along Letty’s jaw tells me this news makes her furious.

  “I am. I answered the phone.” Tubbs nods resolutely. “After he hung up, I asked Leo if was he going to help with the search and he growled that the sheriff was sending him to an accident on Indian Creek. The ambulance was already en route and he needed Leo over there ASAP.” She looks from Letty to me and back. “You might not remember but it was the very next year that Sheriff Claiborne got appointed as the Jackson Falls chief of police. I hear tell he lusted after that job for a long time before luck shined on him.”

 

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