"Maybe we should wait until your mother gets home," Officer Rivera said.
The telephone rang. I jumped out of my chair and ran to the kitchen to answer it.
"Willa, it's Brooke. Daddy and I are on our way to the club," she said. "We're all right and Alyssa is too, and if Terri doesn't show up when she's supposed to, the police will start looking for her. Wait a second." I could hear her and Jack whispering, and then Brooke got back on. "Daddy wants to know if the cops are still there."
"Yes," I said.
I heard Brooke tell Jack that. "He says you should ask them to stay until he gets home," she said. "He'll call as soon as we get to the club, and you shouldn't worry."
"Tell him I'm fine," I said, knowing that was what Jack would want to hear.
"All right," Brooke said. "We'll call in a few minutes."
Talking to Brooke helped calm me down. I walked back to the living room and sat down. "That was my stepsister," I said. "She and Jack are on their way to the tennis club. That's where my other stepsister is. They're going to wait for my mother there."
"Good," Officer Rivera said. "We'll stay here until you hear back from them."
"We were talking about my sisters," I said. It felt so strange, saying "sisters" and not meaning Brooke and Alyssa. "My father has three little girls? But Faye said the Amber Alert was for one of the twins. So there must be another twin and another girl, right? Are they okay? What about their mother? Why are the police looking for my father? Why are you here?"
"The bodies of a woman and two little girls were found at Dwayne Coffey's house," Officer Schultz said. "They were found earlier today. Dwayne Coffey and one of his daughters are missing."
I felt as though the whole house had been picked up by a tornado, that it and everything I'd ever known was twisting out of the solar system.
"We don't know that they're your sisters," Officer Rivera said. "They haven't been identified yet."
"But that's what the police think," I said. "If they're in his house, they're probably his daughters. Only he has three daughters."
"In that house," Officer Schultz said.
"Oh," I said. "He has four daughters, doesn't he? That's why Faye's hysterical. She thinks he's going from house to house, murdering his families. But Mom and I live thousands of miles away. He still lives in Texas, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he does," Officer Schultz said. "But the homicides seem to have happened a couple of days ago. There's no way of knowing where he and the other little girl are at this moment."
"So he could be coming here," I said. "I see."
Of course, I didn't see anything. You can't see anything when you feel like someone is punching you over and over again in the gut.
"It's too early in the investigation to draw conclusions," Officer Rivera said. She leaned over as she spoke and touched me gently on the hand I'd cut. "All that's known for sure is that a woman and two young children were found dead in a house your father lived in. One little girl seems to be missing, and no one knows where your father is. It could be he and the little girl escaped, and he's hiding somewhere until he's sure it's safe."
"Were they shot?" I asked. "The woman and the little girls." My stepmother. My half sisters. "Maybe the woman shot the girls and then shot herself."
"The report says there were a lot of stab wounds," Officer Schultz said. "Mrs. Coffey, if it is Mrs. Coffey, seems to be a victim, not a killer."
"Well, I wouldn't know," I said. "I don't know any of these people. I haven't seen my father since I was four. I don't even think of him as my father. If you'll excuse me, please, I'm not feeling very well."
I felt their eyes on me as I raced to the bathroom to throw up. My palm throbbed. Every cut on my body, even the ones long healed, throbbed.
I love cuts. I love blood. If there had been razorblades in the bathroom, I would have cut every inch of my body.
But there were no razorblades in the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and told myself none of this was about me.
There was a knock on the door. "Willa, are you all right?" Officer Rivera asked.
"I'm fine," I said, drying my face with a hand towel and emerging clean and unbloody from the bathroom. Before I had more of a chance to prove how fine I was, the phone rang.
"I'll get it," I said, racing past Officer Rivera so I could get to the phone first.
"Willa?"
"Mom!" I cried. "Mom, are you all right?"
"Honey, I'm fine," she said. "I went to the library and turned my cell off. I'm at the club with Jack and the girls. Jack said Faye was worried about me. Could you call her, let her know I'm all right?"
Mom doesn't know, I thought. Jack hasn't told her.
"I'll call Faye," I said. "Will you be home soon?"
"Jack and I are coming straight home," Mom replied. "Brooke's taking my car. She and Alyssa are stopping off at a friend's house."
"Okay," I said. "Great. Come on home. I'll call Faye."
"Thanks, honey," Mom said. "See you in a few minutes."
"That was my mother," I said to Officer Rivera as I hung up. "Jack is bringing her home. She was at the library. You don't have to wait if you don't want to. They'll be here in a few minutes."
"We'll wait," Officer Rivera said, giving me a smile. "We're in no hurry."
"All right," I said. Most likely Jack planned to tell Mom whatever it was he knew as they drove home. Or maybe the police officers would tell her, but Jack would be there when they did. Maybe Mom would be able to convince the cops that my father couldn't possibly be involved. Maybe she could explain to me how it was that I had three half sisters and she hadn't felt the need to tell me.
"I have to call Faye," I said. "Mom asked me to."
"Of course," Officer Rivera said. She left me alone in the kitchen.
I dialed Faye's number. "It's Willa," I said. "I just spoke to Mom. She's fine. Jack's bringing her home."
"Thank you, Jesus," Faye said.
"She doesn't know yet," I said. "About ... about Budge. About the bodies. I think Jack'll tell her, or maybe the police will. She might be too upset to call you for a while. But she's fine. You don't have to worry anymore."
"Thank you, Willa," Faye said. "I'm sure you'll be a great comfort."
"I'll try," I said. "Uh, Faye?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
"Mom knew? I mean, that he had gotten married again and had kids?"
"She knew," Faye said. "But, sweetie, it wasn't important. You're all that matters to her, you and Jack and the girls."
"I wondered," I said, "because she never told me."
"Your momma was just trying to protect you." I could hear her start to cry. "You be there for her," she said. "She's going to need you."
I hung up and returned to the living room. "I was supposed to dust and vacuum," I said to the officers. "I guess there's no point starting now. Mom and Jack'll be home soon."
"I hate vacuuming," Officer Schultz said. "That's the one job I won't do. Dishes, diapers even, I don't mind. But my wife does all the vacuuming."
"I don't mind vacuuming," Officer Rivera said. "What I hate is throwing out the garbage."
"Well, we see enough garbage on the job," Officer Schultz said.
"More than enough," Officer Rivera said.
"I don't like throwing out garbage either," I said. "Could you excuse me, please? I'm going to be sick again."
This time, when Officer Rivera knocked on the door to see if I was all right, I told her I was but I didn't come out. I guess she figured I couldn't get into much trouble in a bathroom, because she left me alone after that, and I stayed in there until I heard the car pulling up in our driveway.
I met Mom and Jack at the back door. Jack was holding Mom up, helping her walk into the house. "The officers are in the living room," I said. "They've been waiting for you."
Jack reached over and gave me an awkward embrace. "How are you, pumpkin?" he asked.
"I'm fine," I said.
"Do me a favor and p
our your mother a brandy," he said. "Bring it to the living room."
"Okay," I said.
"I'm all right, honey," Mom said. "I was feeling a little faint, that's all."
"I know," I said. "I'll join you in a minute."
Mom seemed sturdier and she managed to walk to the living room without holding on to Jack. I went to the dining room, found the brandy and the snifters, and poured one for Mom.
"I sent my daughters to a friend's house," Jack was saying as I joined them. "As a precaution."
"That's a good idea," Officer Rivera said. "I'm sure they're in no danger, but it might be better if they stayed away from here for the time being."
"What about Terri and Willa?" Jack asked.
"We'd like to talk to Mrs. McDougal first, if we could," Officer Schultz said. "Any information we could convey to the Texas police would help. After that, the safest thing would be for you all to move in to a motel. Just as a precautionary measure."
"When was the last you heard from Dwayne Coffey?" Officer Rivera asked.
Mom took a sip of her brandy. "About four years ago," she replied. "Right after we moved here. I wrote Budge to ask if he'd let Jack adopt Willa. That's his nickname: Budge. He wrote back a very abusive letter. He said I'd only written to extort money from him. Which I hadn't. When we got the divorce, I signed away any claims for alimony or child support, and I've never asked him for a penny."
"You didn't tell me you'd written Dwayne," Jack said.
"Things were so crazy then," Mom said. "The move. Val leaving. If Budge had said okay, I would have told you. He didn't, so I kept it to myself."
"Willa told us she's had no contact with him," Officer Rivera said. "Not since she was a little girl. Did he ever say he wanted to see her? Maybe in that letter?"
"No," Mom said. "I don't know what I would have done if he had. When I was with Budge, he was always promising to turn over a new leaf, but he never did. But Faye told me he'd accepted Jesus as his savior and was working steady. She'd see him in church every Sunday. He and his wife had a little daughter and newborn twin girls. I thought now that he had three daughters, maybe he'd be ready to let Willa go."
"But his letter disturbed you," Officer Rivera said. "Did he threaten you?"
"No," Mom said. "It was more his tone than anything. It brought back a lot of bad memories. I only read it once, and then I threw it out."
"When you were married, had he been abusive?" Officer Rivera asked. "To you or Willa?"
Mom glanced at me, then looked away. "Budge and I both had tempers," she said. "It was a bad marriage. When I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed Willa and ran."
"All right," Officer Schultz said, putting away his notebook. "I think you should pack a couple of days' worth of clothes, just to be on the safe side. I'm sure this will be wrapped up by then."
"Let us know what motel you're staying at," Officer Rivera said. "In case we need to reach you."
"Wait a second," Mom said. "There's one more thing."
We all stared at her.
"Trace," she said. "Budge's son, Trace. He's a couple years older than Willa. The Texas police probably know about him already."
"Do you have any idea how we could find him?" Officer Schultz asked.
Mom shook her head. "I don't even know what last name he goes by," she said. "Coffey or Sheldon. And Mandy, his mother, has been married a couple of times, so I don't know what her last name is either."
"Do you think your friend Faye would know where Trace is?" Officer Rivera asked.
"I doubt it," Mom said. "She hasn't mentioned him in years. Mandy was in Georgia, the last I heard. Maybe he's with her. Maybe he enlisted. Maybe he's in jail." She turned away from the others and faced me, looked straight into my eyes. "Trace is what you would have been," she said, "if Jack hadn't rescued us both."
Four
TO MY SURPRISE, Jack drove us to Curt and Pauline Henderson's house. Curt and Pauline had both worked at the paper with Jack, and he'd stayed close with them after they retired.
When Jack had said Brooke and Alyssa were at a friend's, I assumed it was a friend of Brooke's. But Jack had told them to go to the Hendersons' and wait there until they heard from him.
"You'd better come in," Jack said to Mom and me. "It's safer."
"Budge isn't going to find us sitting in the Hendersons' driveway," Mom said.
"Terri, please," Jack said.
Mom and I got out of the car and followed Jack to the door. Curt opened it before Jack had a chance to ring the bell.
"We've been keeping an eye out for you," Curt said. "Come on in."
We found Brooke and Alyssa sitting in the living room. "Pauline's in the kitchen, making sandwiches," Curt said. "In case you're hungry."
"I couldn't eat anything," Mom said. "Willa?"
I shook my head. "No, thanks," I said.
"You can stop making the sandwiches," Curt called to Pauline. I guess she stopped, because she came into the living room.
"Terri, I'm so sorry," she said, giving Mom a hug. "Come here, Willa. This must be awful for you."
I love Curt and Pauline. Jack's parents are very nice, but I can tell they feel differently about me than they do Brooke and Alyssa. And Mom's parents died a couple of years after we'd left Texas. Curt and Pauline are more like grandparents than any I've ever had.
Brooke and Alyssa both looked uncomfortable. "We spoke to Mom," Brooke said.
"She says you have to take us to Orlando, Daddy," Alyssa said. "She says it's the safest place for us until they catch Willa's father, but we shouldn't fly there alone."
"She was pretty insistent, Dad," Brooke said. "I think you'd better call her."
"Excuse me," Jack said, and left the room. He went to the den and closed the door.
"Are you all right?" Brooke asked me.
"I'm fine," I said. For all I knew, I was. "As soon as I heard from Mom, I felt better."
"What a horrible, horrible thing for all of you," Pauline said. "I can't even imagine."
I couldn't either, maybe because none of it felt real, except for the throbbing pain in my palm. "I broke a glass," I said. "I dropped it and it shattered. I swept it all up, but one of the shards cut me."
"Is it a bad cut?" Mom asked. "Should you see a doctor?"
"No," I said. "I put peroxide on it and a bandage. It's no big deal."
Brooke gave me a funny look. I wondered if she knew I cut. I was careful not to let anything show, but it was always possible Alyssa had seen something while I was changing and mentioned it to Brooke.
"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" Pauline asked. "Or drink? How about if I made some tea?"
"Not for me, thank you," Mom said.
Jack came back to the living room. "Val says she won't stop worrying until the girls are under her roof," he told us. "Her secretary got us seats on the nine fifteen flight. I'll spend the night in Orlando and get a morning flight home."
I caught Curt and Pauline exchanging glances, but Mom didn't notice. She and Jack hardly ever fight. Jack hates scenes and Mom hates upsetting Jack. "We'll be fine," she said. "And once the girls are with Val, you won't have to worry about them."
"How long will we be there?" Alyssa asked. "Spring vacation's in a couple of weeks. Maybe I should go to Munich with Mom. I could go to Brussels from there."
Jack shook his head. "This will all be resolved in a day or two," he said. "You'll be back in school by Monday."
Curt looked uncomfortable. "I don't know how long it's going to take them to catch Coffey," he said. "These Amber Alerts seem to be very effective. But the story may have legs."
"Why?" Mom asked. "Dwayne's a nobody from Nowhere, Texas. Why should anyone care?"
"It's the missing-kid aspect," Curt said. "Two children dead, one missing. A twin, at that. Missing twins and murder is a potent combination for cable news."
"We'll worry about that if it happens," Jack said. "Meantime, we'd better go back home and pack some clothes."
"Terri and Willa are welcome to stay here," Pauline said. "For as long as it takes."
"That's sweet of you," Mom said. "But the police suggested we go to a motel. I think Jack is right, and this will all blow over in a day or two. Budge'll probably get pulled over for drunk driving and they'll find his little girl sleeping in the back seat."
"Who's Budge?" Alyssa asked.
"Dwayne," Mom said. "Dwayne Coffey. My miserable no-good ex."
"My daddy," I said.
"Don't you ever call him that," Mom said. "Ever."
Jack looked miserable. Not that any of us looked happy.
"We'll take my car to the motel," Curt said. "I'll use my charge card to check Terri and Willa in. I doubt Coffey'll be calling motels to try to find you, but why take chances."
"Thanks," Jack said. "Better safe than sorry."
Well, we were all sorry. Just sorry for different things.
Five
"IS THERE ANYTHING you want to talk about?" Mom asked. "Do you have any questions?"
"No," I said.
We were in the motel room. It was a suite, actually, a living room with a sofa bed and a bedroom. Mom said she'd sleep in the living room. I guess she saw herself as a line of defense in case Dwayne Budge-Not-Daddy Coffey showed up, knife in hand.
"Yeah," I said. "I do have a question. Why do you and Faye call him Budge? I've never heard you call him that. Jack didn't even know who Budge was when I asked him."
"It's his nickname," Mom said. "He was so stubborn. You know, he'd never budge an inch. Granny Coffey named him that. I don't know what people call him now. Probably Dwayne."
I couldn't remember if I'd ever heard Mom talk to Faye about anyone named Budge. If she had, I probably assumed it was another one of Faye's crazy exes.
"Is that all?" Mom asked. "I know this must be very hard for you, very confusing. You've never really asked me about Dwayne. I've liked to think that's because you feel Jack is your father. He is, in every way that counts."
"Except biologically," I said. "And legally."
"Legally wasn't his choice," Mom said. "Dwayne wouldn't give permission. He wouldn't budge."
Blood Wounds Page 3