All the years I’d searched for my father, I’d found nothing. No work history. No activity on his Social Security Number. No child support, no birthday or Christmas cards. A drunken confession.
If Bradford Lake was scheduled to be drained, my worst fears would be unearthed. The room started to spin.
“Renee? You okay?”
Shaking my head, I covered my mouth and mumbled, “Gonna be sick,” then ran to the bathroom.
I HEARD TRACI come inside the restroom, turn the sink on and then grab a bunch of paper towels.
“You okay?”
I flushed the toilet and exited the stall, stumbling my way to the sink. “Yeah. Obviously, I can’t hold my liquor. Haven’t had this much to drink in years. The last time I did, I wound up pregnant.”
Traci giggled. “Don’t worry. I certainly can’t knock you up.”
I gave her a weak smile. “True.”
“I’ve had way more and I’m fine. Well, I mean, I don’t feel sick or anything. You should’ve eaten more food. Then again, maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut and not freaked you out.”
Taking the damp towels, I wiped my face and turned on the faucet. After rinsing my mouth and spitting, I said, “Stop. My worshiping the porcelain throne had nothing to do with what you told me, though it is shocking. It’s just been a really long last seven days and I overindulged.”
Traci slumped against the counter and yanked the clip from her head. Mounds of thick, sable hair spilled around her shoulders. Even when trashed, she was still beautiful. I didn’t dare look at my own reflection, afraid I’d puke again.
“Wow, think I stood too fast. Got the spins.”
“Why don’t you let me drive you home? I feel fine now that I yakked up all the tequila.”
The door opened before Traci had a chance to respond. The night was just full of surprises.
“Oh, this brings me back to high school. Renee and Traci trashed in the bathroom, desperately trying to clean themselves up so others won’t notice.”
I wanted to crawl back into the stall. The last person I needed to see was Gretchen Chase, yet there she stood, face full of righteous condemnation.
Traci snorted, “Well, hello to you too, Gretchen. Your face has changed, but your mouth sure hasn’t.”
Okay, that was funny so of course I laughed.
Gretchen walked to the mirror and opened her purse. While applying more gloss to lips already coated with way too much, she gave me a smirk then said, “Only back in town a short time and already picked up bad habits again, Traci? Hmmm, must be the company you keep. Didn’t your momma warn you about hanging out with white trash?”
That did it. I threw the wet paper towels on the counter, ready to give my former friend an earful. She only thought what I’d said at Walmart was bad.
Traci beat me to the punch. “She did, which is why I never came knocking on your door to say I was back.”
“Oh, what a witty comeback! Guess you aren’t as drunk as you look. And smell.”
Glaring at Gretchen, I added, “You just proved your mother didn’t teach you any manners, Gretchen. And this is nothing like high school. Back then, you were just as trashed and not a bitch.”
Traci burst out laughing and headed to the door. Gretchen’s face was red again and anger burned behind her eyes. Gracing her with a smirk of my own, I turned and followed Traci.
“Watch your back, Traci. Like I said, Renee hasn’t changed since high school. She’s still the same weird, lost soul constantly in need of validation. She’ll pull you into the pity-party known as her life and try to drown you, too. My advice is to walk away before you get sucked in.”
“I suppose my other option is to walk down the road you did and abandon a friend in need? No thanks, Gretchen. There’s only room in this small town for one hateful twat.”
Traci yanked the door open and we stumbled out into the dining area, laughing hysterically. Several patrons turned and looked our way and neither of us cared. Throwing a wad of cash on the table, Traci muttered something I didn’t catch and staggered toward the front door.
The moon was bright and the air frigid while we walked. Traci fumbled for her keys, giggling like a teenager while continuing to spew out hateful things about Gretchen Chase. Though I sort of enjoyed listening to her verbally shred Gretchen, I also knew she was way too intoxicated to drive.
Reaching for her keys, I said, “Traci, let me take you home.”
“I’m fine! Besides, if I leave my ride here, how will I get to work in the morning?”
“I’ll stop by and pick you up on my way in.”
Figuring I was in for an argument, I was pleasantly surprised when Traci dropped the keys back inside her purse. “Okay. Just no talking loud in the morning because I have a feeling my head will be pounding.”
I looked over at my piece of junk and then back to Traci’s nice SUV. If I was a car thief, I know which one I’d pick. “Let’s take your vehicle and leave mine. Chances of someone stealing it are nil. I promise I won’t go anywhere except your place and then back to mine. Okay?”
Traci leaned against the passenger door of the Lincoln Navigator, her eyes half-closed. “Whatever you say, driver.”
After helping cram Traci’s drunk ass into the passenger seat, I climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. I’d never been inside a vehicle with heated, leather seats, or seen one with so many buttons and lights.
“I guess I need to ask you where you live, huh?” I muttered while fiddling with the confusing buttons to find the one to move the seat closer. Traci was a good four inches taller than me. My feet barely reached the pedals.
“Ha, that would probably help! You remember where my aunt lives off Highway 9, right?”
My heart skipped two beats. I remembered. Of course she lived less than two miles from Suicide Lake. God, I couldn’t escape the water no matter how hard I tried. Mental images of the muddy bottom with two skeletons stuck in the muck next to a rotting Harley made my stomach queasy again. I forced myself not to puke. “Um, yeah. Been a long time, but I think so. Are you staying with Sylvia?”
Traci exploded into a pile of snorts and giggles while I backed out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main highway. “Hell no! She may be kin, but we aren’t exactly close. I’m staying at the rental cabin on her property until I save up enough cash to buy a house. College tuition for two is expensive, even though Edward is paying half. The old bitch surprised me when she called and offered to let me stay there rent-free. That’s why I didn’t move to Little Rock.”
“That was nice of her. At least you aren’t living with Sylvia.”
Traci shifted in the seat and stared at me. “Oh, sorry. That was rude of me. I’d forgotten about your situation. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been.”
“At first it was, that’s for sure. The time we’ve spent in close proximity to one another has, um, opened up a new door into our relationship. Eleanor’s been through some tough times and so have I. Guess living together forced us to wear each other’s shoes for a while. We learned a lot about each other.”
“That’s so nice, but still creepy if you ask me. I mean, the history between you two! Does she ever talk about it?”
“No. Not really. Sometimes she hints around it, but never comes out and directly mentions Billy’s name.”
“Well, I admire you both for different reasons. She is a strong woman and obviously a kind soul to offer her place up to you. You’ve got to be one tough chick mentally to withstand living with the mother of your ex, especially considering where he is at the moment.”
“Eleanor is a kind soul for sure. In terms of me? Well, let’s just say this job was a Godsend. I’m moving back home this weekend and will appreciate more than I can express the joy of living alone.”
We chatted a few more minutes about trivial things while I navigated the dark, twisty roads leading to the bowels of Whitten County. I cringed when we passed the road leading to Bradford Lake. A lump of t
ears formed while passing the entrance to Ten Mile Cemetery less than a mile later.
When Traci pointed to the correct road on the left, I turned on the blinker and glanced in the rear view mirror out of habit. A twinge of fear made the hairs stand on my neck when the faint glimmer of headlights in the distance appeared.
Ignoring the stupid paranoia, I dropped Traci off, helped her inside the cabin, and then limped my way back to the SUV. The buzz long gone, my back throbbed.
Once back on Highway 9, I zoned out, thinking about all the little bombshells Traci dropped during dinner. Though a bit painful, I didn’t really care about the dramatic little episode in the bathroom with Gretchen. The interaction paled in comparison to the revelations revealed from Traci’s drunken words.
My world was on the cusp of crumbling around me. If what Traci said was true, then Mom’s dirty little secret would be revealed, giving Gretchen Chase, and everyone else in Whitten County, something to gossip about for years.
I put the SUV in park and stared out the windshield. Without consciously realizing it, I’d turned down the road leading to Ten Mile Cemetery. The headlights illuminated rows and rows of headstones in front of me.
I didn’t care about the pain in my back as I climbed out of the seat and walked across the dry grass. Memorized from years of making the pilgrimage numerous times, I stopped in front of the small markers where the bodies of my mother and son rested six-feet under the dirt.
William Bracy Runsford – beloved son and Caroline Clark Thornton – mother. The etched words on the marble headstones had faded over time. The ache inside my chest for William pounded. I hated myself for thinking I was almost glad he’d died, because if my son had lived, his life would be shattered soon when Suicide Lake gave up her secrets.
Lowering myself to the cold ground, I ran my fingers over the words, wishing there was a third grave next to them. “Oh, Mom, I hope you were lying to me. Dad needs to be right here, next to you, the way things are supposed to be. Why did you tell me? Why did you ruin my life? You shouldn’t have told me! I was just a kid for God’s sake! I’d rather die thinking Dad left us for another woman than knowing the truth.”
The sound of gravel crunching stopped me from collapsing into a blubbering heap on top of Mom’s grave. Turning, I shielded my eyes from a bright set of headlights. Great, someone else decides to visit the cemetery.
The lights shut off and footsteps approached. The fear from before was back so I stood and headed back to Traci’s SUV.
“Renee? What are you doing here?”
Shocked, I stammered, “Cliff? What…are you…did you follow me?”
He moved out of the shadows and right next to me. “I did. You shouldn’t be driving.”
The tension in Cliff’s voice—and the fact he’d followed me—again, pissed me off. “No, Traci shouldn’t have been driving, which is why I drove her home. I’m fine, other than the fact I’m sort of getting a tad freaked out. I’m not used to being stalked.”
“Renee, I’m not stalking you. I told you before, I’m watching to make sure you’re safe. Remember? I saw you two leave La Hacienda and wanted to make sure you didn’t have an accident. You’ve been drinking.”
“Watching, stalking. Same thing in my book,” I said.
Cliff stepped closer, blocking me from getting back in the SUV. “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing because I can see it in your face. Talk to me.”
There was no way I’d share what was going on with Cliff. He’d find out soon enough anyway. Before we moved any further in our little relationship-dance, it was time to end the music and walk away. “Nothing to talk about, Cliff. I dropped Traci off, stopped by the graves of my loved once since I was out this way, and now I’m heading to Eleanor’s. End of story, and end of us. I don’t like having my every move monitored. I get enough of that from Eleanor.”
Cliff reached out and touched my cheek. His hand was warm and sent shivers of desire pumping through me. “I’m not monitoring every move, Renee. I’m protecting you.”
Brushing his hand away, I said, “Again, I don’t need your protection. You need to go, Cliff. Find someone else to bother because getting tangled up with me will be your undoing. That’s a promise.”
Cliff took a step forward and pressed his body against mine. Even under the dim rays of the moonlight, I could see the raw passion behind his beautiful eyes. “You’ve been tangled in my heart ever since I was fifteen. I’m not going anywhere.”
Before I could protest, Cliff leaned down, cupping my face in his hands. His lips were moist and firm, the kiss more urgent than the one at Eleanor’s. I tried to fight the power it had over me, unwilling to let my own passionate thoughts sway me, but the taste of his lips, the power of his hands, overrode my misgivings.
Like two teenagers sneaking out into the woods to neck, Cliff and I sought out each other in the cold, night air. His strong arms held me tight while lips delivered sensual kisses on my mouth and neck. Had the interaction continued any longer, I would have thrown caution to the proverbial wind and let him taste all of me in the backseat of Traci’s SUV.
Instead of wallowing around like kids, Cliff pulled away. “See what you do to me, Renee? Can’t keep my head on straight when I’m near you.”
Heart racing and blood pounding, I chuckled, “If your plan was to sweep me off my feet and make me forgot what I was saying, it worked. Some moves you’ve got there, Deputy. Still doesn’t change the facts. I don’t need protection and—”
“Yes, you do. Your asinine assumptions I’m some freaky stalker and you don’t need protection are wrong. I guess while you were at dinner with Traci you didn’t hear the latest news?”
Oh, I heard news alright. News that probably turned my hair completely white. Swallowing my fears of what Cliff was about to drop on me, I asked, “News? What news?”
Cliff’s attitude shifted from sexual tension to worry. “Martha Cayhill’s supposed murderer was arrested an hour ago.”
My mouth gaped open, stunned and thrilled the latest local news didn’t center on me. “Seriously? Who? And why do you look so worried? This is a good thing, right?”
“If they arrested the real killer it would be. Considering they hauled in ol’ Kendrick Paulson, it’s not.”
The name rang a bell for some reason yet I couldn’t place why. “Kendrick Paulson? Why do I know that name?”
“His father, Kendrick Paulson, Sr. The moonshiner.”
“Whoa, wait a minute! The guy who killed someone back in the ’50s?”
“One and the same. Kendrick, Jr., is just an old hermit living out on his family’s property on the other side of Bradford Lake. I saw him when Greenwood brought him in. The man’s so frail a puppy would knock him over. No way he killed Martha.”
I thought back to what Gretchen said at Walmart and figured this was a good opportunity to find out if any of it was true. The news certainly gave me something else to think about besides the impending discovery of my father’s bones. “Why do you say that? Is he an invalid or something?”
Cliff stepped over to his unit and retrieved a cup of coffee. The man seemed addicted to caffeine. “No, Renee. But he is less than five-six and might weigh all of one-forty when soaking wet. Martha was five-eight and a good ten years younger. She’d put up a fight and probably would have won. Well, at least long enough to get away. Even if I’m wrong about that, I can’t picture Kendrick hauling her body from his house to the lake. He ain’t strong enough to pick up a sack of grain, much less a body.”
Well, there was one tidbit of gossip confirmed. I decided to play dumb. “Wait, are you saying Martha wasn’t killed at the lake?”
Cliff raised an eyebrow. “Renee, please. I know you were freaked that night, but surely you didn’t miss the fact Martha still had flesh on her, right?”
“Well, yeah, I did notice, but—”
“That’s because her body had only been in the lake three days. The rest of the time, she’d been kept in a freezer. O
ne Greenwood discovered in an old barn on Kendrick’s property less than four hours ago. Forensics found traces of her blood type inside, and her purse and car keys packed in ice.”
Confused, I asked, “If that’s the case, why don’t you think Kendrick did it? Maybe he had help or something. Maybe a relative?”
“Possible, but what was his motive? According to the autopsy, Martha showed no signs of sexual trauma. No ransom request ever surfaced, so that rules out she was kidnapped for money. Why would Kendrick snatch her, strangle her, tie her up and leave her in his freezer for over fifteen months, then decide to take her out for a dip in the lake? It doesn’t add up. None of it.”
No, none of it did. The news just muddied the swirling waters of all the other tidbits inside my head. Cold, frightened, and terrified about how all this would end, I wanted to go home. I needed to bury my head under the comforter and pretend the entire debacle was nothing more than a product of my vivid nightmares.
“Renee? Did you hear me?” Cliff said, his hands reaching out for my own.
“Oh, uh, sorry. Just shocked about all this, among other things.”
Cliff squeezed my hands, bringing one up to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Such as how much I—?”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I interrupted, afraid he was about to say he loved me or something equally disturbing. “Isn’t all of this sort of confidential? Aren’t you risking your job by talking about it with me or something?”
“Yes, it is, or it will be until he’s officially charged. Am I risking my job? Maybe. Do I care? No. You still haven’t realized that yet, have you? My only concern is about you.”
Looking into Cliff’s eyes, the truth dawned on me. He really did care, and that was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. I’d waited, prayed, hoped, dreamt of being loved, so of course it happens right before my dirty family secret pops out of the closet.
I summoned every bit of strength I could muster and pulled away. “I’m cold and tired, Cliff. Thanks for watching over me. Really. But I’ll be fine. I can protect myself. Been doing it for years.”
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