"I didn't want to drag you into it. It isn't your problem. It's my problem. My family. My job."
"My. My. My." I raised my voice. "What about our? It's our future. Our life. Our home. Don't you trust me?"
"I, ah, well . . . I didn't . . . wasn't sure . . ." He stopped for a moment. "Of course, I trust you, but I don't want you involved. I didn't think Pyle would follow me to Virginia—not knowing that I know what he did."
"You're not making a hell of a lot of sense. You want me along, then you're going alone, then I'm here in the car with you. You leave me in the dark when our lives may be threatened." I was yelling and not only because of the eighty-five mile an hour gale blowing over my head and flapping the canvas convertible top.
"I don't think our lives are threatened." Ray emphasized our. "I wouldn't have you here if I did. I have to see about my kid. The rest is unhappy coincidence. Now, while it's true my life may be threatened, Pyle has no reason to come after you."
"You said he's a few marbles short of a full sack. Why wouldn't he come after me?"
"I don't think he would. He has no . . . but . . . I wouldn't put you in that position. And, I'd rather have you with me than somewhere by yourself unprotected and all."
I responded with, "We'll see, I guess. I think it has cooled off a bit. Can we put the top down again? I want to see the mountains."
We passed the Virginia welcome sign, and the Appalachian Mountains in all their glory surrounded us. The road snaked steadily upward, promising a magnificent vista around each bend. Rich green peaks poked out of low-lying clouds giving the impression smoke filled the valleys, and obscuring any hope of surveying the view. The S2000 clung to the curves as if it were meant to be there, and I gave myself in to enjoying the ride.
As we crossed over the Blue Ridge Parkway and down the other side of the mountain range, I said, "We live in Florida, and I sometimes get the idea the whole world is flat. I love the hills, the trees, the scenery. Why don't we live here?"
"Maybe some day. It's a matter of getting a job and making a living." He took my hand in his. "Sophi, please support me on this. Trust me. Someday, I'll tell you the whole story. But, not now."
"Sounds ominous."
"Not really. I need to set aside those old wounds. I need to think clearly in the here and now."
"Okay, babe. Okay." I put my hand on his arm.
We exited I-77 onto I-81 North, and the weather cooled. The promised cold front had arrived. Ray pulled off at the first exit. We put up the top back up and went into a fast food joint.
"I can't wait to have some of your mom's home cooking," I said, biting into a greasy burger.
13
After negotiating a muddle of side streets and main thoroughfares in Roanoke, we turned east and crossed the mountains a second time. Here, the view was less spectacular with small towns and housing developments scattered along the way. All we needed was to drive a few miles in either direction on the Blue Ridge Parkway to see some of the most breath-taking mountain scenery in the eastern United States.
We rode around the long curve into Parkview, about mid-afternoon. The cold drizzle turned to driving rain and drummed on the hood of the car, seeming to pierce the canvas top and penetrate the interior. Thankfully, the roof stayed dry inside, the heater worked, and the downpour was brief. By unspoken agreement, our first stop was the local department store, a Walmart, where we both invested in light jackets. Since I expected typical warm weather, I packed sandals, shorts, and one sleeveless dress. I selected jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers, socks, and an umbrella. A regular fall wardrobe, country style.
As we walked to the car, I asked, "Where to next? To see the chief?"
"I thought we'd get a room at the motel on the main road."
"Don't you want to stay at your mom's house?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Mom will put us in separate rooms." He patted my hand. "I don't want to be away from you."
"Maybe Martha changed her mind. After all, we are both over thirty." I suspected he didn't want to put his parents in harm's way, but kept my opinion to myself for a change.
"Mom hasn't changed her mind about some things. She's delighted we're back together, and when we're married, she'll allow us the privilege of staying in the same room, but not until."
"Martha's entitled to her opinion, and we'd survive a few days." Truth be known, I wasn't feeling warm and cuddly anyway. There had been too many surprises, and I was filled with doubt about our relationship and what Ray was hiding from his past.
After we registered at the motel, Ray ducked into the adjacent restaurant to see if his daughter was working, then we put our things into the room. While I changed into jeans and sweatshirt, Ray sat on the side of the bed and put in calls to Chief Jake Ervin, his parents, and Elaine. By the time I was ready, Ray had the remainder of our day planned.
I overheard most of the conversations from the dressing area. Wanting to clarify what he expected from me, I asked, "Do you want me to wait here while you see the Chief? Or, I'll visit your mother?"
"Come with me. I'll not be long with the Chief. Mom didn't expect us until tomorrow—don't ask me why—so she's off to the store. She wants to invite Elaine and the kids for dinner. I hope you don't mind."
"Why would I mind? I might as well get used to it. I'm sure we'll see a lot of the woman while we're here."
"Honey, I'll make it up to you. I promise." He reached for me and pulled me to him.
I stiffened.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. We better get moving, that's all. You don't know how long the meeting with the chief will last."
Ray exhaled sharply and stood. He held his arms out, welcoming me into an embrace. This time I didn't resist. I didn't want to have our entire stay filled with tension between us. He kissed me lightly on the lips.
"Let's go," Ray said as he stepped away and opened the door to the room.
Our room was in the last row of buildings. A high fence separated the parking area from the adjacent private property, a wooded hillside appearing to be about a forty-five degrees incline. The west side of the motel property was also fenced. I surveyed the area. It provided limited access should someone want to get at us, but limited escape possibilities, too. The open drapes in neighboring rooms provided a view of an assortment of open suitcases, ruffled bed covers, and scattered newspapers. We weren't isolated.
Though I was comfortable enough in my new clothes, I shivered as I slid into the passenger seat of the Honda. I felt out of my element. A real flatlands-foreigner.
14
The police department sat on ten acres inside the city's southernmost point. The fire station, what looked like a garage, and a squat office building shared the lot. I saw a sign pointing to the PD's firing range, which was somewhere beyond the garage.
Ray parked in a designated visitor space. There were only two other vehicles. I wondered why they bothered with the designated spaces.
Once inside, Ray spoke to the receptionist who buzzed us through to a cluttered squad room in the back. We took the aisle through the middle of two rows of desks to where the chief stood in the doorway to his office, which occupied the bear's share of the north wall of the building. A heavy-duty lock on the doorway to the right suggested the prisoner's quarters were in the basement.
Chief Jake Ervin, a burly man in a filled-to-capacity khaki uniform, looked a few years older than Ray. A scattering of dark hair covered the crown of Ervin's skull, then thickened over his ears. Like many balding men, his head seemed to be the only part of his body not covered with hair. His face sported a thick shadow, and his forearms seemed furry enough to negate the need for a jacket, even on a cold day. I suspected his formidable belly and ruddy complexion were the result of beer. I thought it a shame. Ervin would have been a handsome man had he stayed in shape.
"Have a seat." Chief Ervin stood back and offered Ray his hand as we entered his office. "Ray, you're lookin' good. Who's the young
lady?"
Ray introduced me as his fiancée, and we sat. As the men exchanged pleasantries, I glanced at my bare left hand and wondered if I was the last to know or if I had any say in the matter. I admitted Ray's explanation sounded better than the truth, which was we had reconciled to the point of shacking up while avoiding further commitment. I tuned into the conversation. They had gotten down to business.
"Ray," Chief Ervin was saying, "like I told you on the telephone, I'm concerned about Branden. Elaine has lost control of him. He's runnin' with a tough, older crowd, and I think they're playin' him for a fool."
"Do you think he'll lead you to whoever is supplyin' the pot?"
"Not intentionally. There are several major suppliers over the mountain. It could be any one of them. To tell you the truth, I'm not certain Branden is getting the stuff directly. I think one of the older boys is making the arrangements, then using Branden locally to carry the merchandise and make deliveries."
"You're sure he's not just buyin' it for himself and his friends?"
"Trust me. Branden is dealin'."
"Now what?" Ray's goatee quivered at the edges and his eyes hardened. I wouldn't want to be the kid when Ray caught up with him. Ray's manner would be gentle, but there would be no mistake about his paternal anger.
"Since he's your kid, if you get him to break away from that crowd, tell me what he knows, then stay out of trouble, I'll not press the matter. But, if he doesn't, you know I'll have no choice."
The thought occurred to me the chief had a choice about pressing charges. In a town of less than ten thousand, it would be his sole discretion.
"Yeah, Jake, I know." Ray tapped his fingers on the edge of Ervin's desk. "I'll talk to him tonight and get back to you tomorrow."
"That's fine. I've waited this long." Chief Ervin started to stand up behind his desk, but Ray raised a hand signaling him there was more to come.
"There's another matter."
"Which would be?"
"Alfred Pyle."
Ervin raised an eyebrow. "What about him? Judge released him from prison after you made that fuss years ago. We haven't seen or heard from him until I got a wire about Pyle being on the run, ah . . . yesterday."
Ray filled Ervin in on the crimes police accused Pyle of committing in Florida, his other arrest and imprisonment in Alabama, and the fact Pyle was on the move—maybe headed toward Virginia.
"Why do you think Buddy Lee," Ervin said Buddy Lee like one word, "would be stupid enough to come back here?"
"We know he's lost control," Ray said. "Pyle recognized me while I was pursuing him on foot, and it's possible he was driving the Ranger that followed us out of Florida and halfway across Georgia. We're sure he stole another ride, but have no clue what it might be. We didn't notice anyone else following us when we drove here from Columbia today."
"Think you lost him?"
"Not a chance." Ray pointed in the general direction of the parking lot. "If it was Pyle, he knows my car, and we came by the most common route—a real Triple-A special. If he wants to find us, he will."
"Maybe he went back to Alabama."
"That's a possibility." Ray stood. "Elaine had a call from Pyle, so she knows he's on the move. If he's hunting, she may be the target. I'm going to deal with my son and hang around a few days to make sure Elaine and the kids are okay."
"Stone," Ervin said sternly, "remember your badge is no good here." He pointed to Ray's left shoulder. "You carryin'?"
"Nope." Ray said, opening his jacket to prove he wasn't wearing his holster. He didn't mention his weapon in the car.
Chief Ervin walked us to the front door of the station and stood on the landing as we slipped into the car. "That's a tight fit for you, Stone," he joked.
Ray closed the door and opened the window. "To tell you the truth, Jake, if I gain 10 pounds, I'll have to give the car to Sophi."
Ervin was still laughing as we backed out of the parking lot, but I didn't think it was all that funny. In fact, I planned to increase the calorie content of my cooking.
15
Ray accelerated to the speed limit and headed downtown. I remembered the way through the aging business district—a right turn at the paper plant, down a small slope, under a concrete railroad bridge, then left up a gradual incline. John and Martha Stone, Ray's parents, lived on the north side of town, and Elaine lived a couple of blocks from them.
"Where we headed?" I asked when Ray veered off the expected route.
"I thought we'd drive by the middle school and the park on the way to the house. I want to see the situation with Branden for myself."
"Isn't the school closed this time of year?"
"Summer school's in session. Given that it's mostly the low achieving kids attending, it seems like a perfect place to be peddling dope this time of year."
"It's unbelievable in a sweet little town like this." I shook my head.
"This isn't a sweet little town. It's a slice of America. America has a drug problem." Ray pointed to a couple of tough looking kids who were walking along the road. "Looks like South Florida."
"Okay, burst my bubble." I shrugged my shoulders.
The cold drizzle intensified causing the windshield to fog. Ray switched on the wipers and the defroster. Warm air filled the car's interior. I unzipped my jacket at the neck and opened the window a crack. "You mind?"
"No." He rounded the corner and pointed in the direction of the one-story middle school. The teachers' parking lot was about half filled. Kids streamed through the side door and scattered in every direction. A couple of school buses sat in a wide driveway with their doors open. "We're just in time. They must get out at three-thirty."
"Seems late in the day for summer school."
"They run two sessions. I think it's because only a handful of teachers want to work during the summer, and they bring the grade schoolers over here to avoid opening and maintaining another building."
"Cost containment, country style."
"Something like that." A small stand of shrubs obscured a parking place. He eased in behind the plants, then said, "Look over to the right." He pointed to a blue and white police car parked twenty yards away. "There's the patrol keeping an eye on things like Chief Ervin promised."
I watched the kids for a minute. "They look like normal children to me."
"Oh they are—in every way," Ray said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There's Branden." He nodded his head to the left.
"I presume you're talking about the tall kid with the pouting face."
"Yup, that'd be my boy. Kid doesn't smile."
"Never?"
"Hardly ever." We sat watching as several youngsters stopped to talk with Branden. He responded animatedly to whatever they said, punctuating the conversation with what looked like feigned aggression and hand slaps—high fives, low fives, then a palm-to-palm slide.
"He looks like he's trying to play a cool, tough guy."
"Yes, he does." Ray slipped the car into gear. When Branden hopped on his bike, we followed at a discreet distance. A second boy on a bike joined Branden when he turned the corner on the northern end of the school lot. "That's his friend, Joey. Nice kid. Or at least he always has been."
"You'd better check that opinion with Elaine. I'm sure she knows his friends."
"I can only hope."
When the boys changed direction, Ray braked, pulled over to the side, and pretended to study something in his lap.
The kids looked in our direction, eyeing the car. "Stay like that. They're giving us the once over." We waited in silence.
"Did Elaine tell him you were on your way."
"I expect not. She wants to make an impression on him, I think."
"Should be interesting when Branden figures out you were spying on him."
Ray glanced in my direction. "Yup," he said. "At least, he'll have to come clean with why he was hanging out here when he's not attending summer school."
"Maybe Branden came by to meet Joey," I said.
>
"Yeah, right."
The boys evidently tired of car watching and hurried on their way.
Ray approached the corner and turned the other direction. We went around more corners, down a steep hill, and stopped in front of a small pond. Several small benches sat at the edge of a large grassy area facing the water. The drizzle had turned to rain and was rippling the surface. A picnic area sprawled off to the side between the pond and the fenced back yards of the bordering homes.
I didn't see any playground equipment from where we sat. "The park?"
"It's the one Ervin referred to. We'll sit here a minute and see what happens."
I opened the window farther, letting in the cold, damp air. I was chilled, but it felt appropriate to the moment. "Don't you feel guilty about spying on your kid like this? Shouldn't you approach Branden and tell him you're in town to see him?" I thought about the kid never smiling.
"Later, at dinner. That reminds me." Ray keyed a number into his telephone. "Mom," he said a moment later, "did you get in touch with Elaine?" He frowned. "Good, we're coming now." He started the Honda. A minute later, Ray cornered into the driveway of his parents' one-story, red brick home. He swung around towards the back, slipping in between the back porch and the detached garage.
"You hiding?" I was incredulous.
"Trying to."
"This is going to backfire with Branden. He'll be pissed."
"Oh, well. I'm pissed that he's dealing. He'll have to cope with people not trusting him for a while. That's how it is."
"You have to wonder. Branden rarely smiles, which probably means he's unhappy. I wonder what came first, the distrust or the distemper." I opened the door and climbed out. The rain had stopped. "I'm going in to get reacquainted with Martha. You did tell her we're staying at the motel, didn't you?"
"Yes, Sophi, I told her." Ray grinned, and I felt myself thaw some.
"Good. That'll save me the trouble of feeling guilty about telling her we're living in sin."
"It's not really my mother who has a problem with it," Ray said, leaning over the top of the car and lowering his voice. "It's Dad. He's a prude, always has been, always will be. Mom puts up with it after all these years." I noticed Ray's eyes were on the road. I glanced in the direction he was looking and saw a blue Ford Focus turn the corner at the end of the street.
Imperfect Daddy Page 6