Legacy of Masks

by Sallie Bissell

  “Sheoh,” she greeted him.

  “Sheoh,” he answered back.

  “I have something for you,” she said, watching his eyes. “I believe someone is trying to send you a message.”

  Without another word, she lifted the mask from the blanket. Ridge’s eyes widened.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  He nodded.

  “An hour ago I had quit this case. But then I found this hanging on my office door, eagle feather and all. Someone wants me to help you, Ridge.”

  He pinched his lips together as if what he had to say might be painful, but he nodded in agreement.

  “Will you do what I ask you to do?” Mary asked.

  “Yes.”

  She pulled out a legal pad and leaned back in her chair. “Then tell me what happened the night Bethany died.”

  28

  Over the past month Ridge’s English had grown rusty with disuse and often he reverted to Cherokee. Still, Mary sat taking careful notes as he talked.

  “She picked me up at Hugh’s after her parents took her little sister to a ball game. She seemed angry.”

  “What about?” asked Mary.

  Ridge shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she’d had a fight with her mother.”

  “Did she say what they’d fought about?”

  “No. Only that both her parents hated her.”

  Mary frowned. “Where did you go after she picked you up?”

  “We went to Smitty’s tavern and got beer and hamburgers.” He spoke more softly. “Then we drove up to a place we go to.”

  “What place?”

  “A cliff place,” he said, his eyes faraway. “She calls it Laurel Overlook.”

  “What did you do there?”

  He stiffened in his chair, unwilling to speak.

  “Ridge?”

  Again, nothing.

  Mary remembered years ago when Stump Logan had asked Jonathan the same questions. Apparently Cherokee males were still loath to reveal their sexual partners. “Ridge, it’s okay to tell. We know you two made love. The police did a DNA test. They found your semen inside her.”

  He looked mortified, as if she’d seen him naked, then his gaze fell on the mask, and he nodded.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “We made love.”

  “And then what?” asked Mary.

  “Then she dropped me off at Hugh’s. I thought she went home.”

  Mary sat up straighter. This was the first curve Ridge’s version of the story had thrown her. “You’re saying that you weren’t in her room that night at all?”

  “I’ve been in her room other nights,” Ridge admitted. “I go along that path, through the woods behind her house. But not that night. We both had to get up early the next morning. She had the breakfast shift at the café, and I had to help the farrier with Hugh’s horses.”

  “Ridge, you know that you must tell me the truth—zeeyuck?”

  “Zeeyuck gunohezay.”

  “What did you do when she dropped you off at Hugh’s?”

  “I went inside to check on him. He was cleaning a bridle in the kitchen. I helped him put it back together—his fingers are old and he can’t do the buckles. Then I went out to the barn and went to bed.”

  “And what time was that?”

  The boy frowned, trying to remember. “It was before eleven o’clock. Hugh was waiting for the late news to come on television.”

  A red light flashed inside Mary’s head. She knew absolutely that Ridge had not communicated with Hugh since before his arrest, yet he’d just corroborated the story that Hugh himself had told her. Plus, Ridge had revealed a big gap in the time line of Bethany’s death. According to the police report, Paula Daws heard her daughter stumble in drunk at 2:43. The ME put her death at approximately 4 A.M., yet Ridge had bid her good night before eleven. What had Bethany done between 11:00 and 2:43?

  Mary looked over her notes. She tapped her pen on the paper, then asked a question she’d wondered about ever since Ravenel had showed her the evidence Turpin had shared with them.

  “When Bethany dropped you off, what kind of mood was she in?”

  Ridge frowned as if he didn’t understand the question. “Mood?”

  “Was she happy? Sad? Angry? Excited?”

  “She was mad at her parents,” he replied. “She stayed mad at her parents.”

  “Did she ever say why?”

  He shook his head. “She said they were both cowards. Sometimes she said her father was just like Lot.”

  “Lot?” Mary knew that was a character from somewhere in the Bible, but she couldn’t remember what he was supposed to have done. “Did she ever talk about her father hitting her? Abusing her?”

  “Mostly, she just talked about leaving. She always said once we got to Chapel Hill, we would never come back here.”

  Mary sighed at the fragility of Bethany’s dream, shattered now as tragically as the young woman who’d dreamed it. “What were you going to do in Chapel Hill while she went to college?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, morose. “Get another job, I guess.”

  Mary studied her notes for a moment, then she leaned forward. “Ridge, we haven’t got much time before your trial starts. Is there anything else you can think of to tell me? Any little detail about you and Bethany at all?”

  For a moment his eyes glittered, and she thought he was going to say something else. But then the moment passed. He retreated into the same bewildering stoicism of the last two months. “No,” he said with finality. “Nothing more.”

  “Okay,” she said, wondering if he was lying, if those dark Ani Zaguhi eyes were hiding something. “Then I’ll get to work. If you think of anything else, tell the deputy that you need to see your lawyer. They’ll make sure I get the message.”

  “Sheoh.” He stood up and smiled.

  “Sheoh, Ridge,” she replied. “Think about what I said.”

  She watched him stride out of the interview room, then she wrapped the mask back in the blanket and headed for the door. Though Ridge had still not uttered all that many words, he had readily backed up Hugh Kavanagh’s version of the night of the murder and he had confirmed the strained relationship between Bethany Daws and her parents.

  Driving quickly back to town, she found a parking space in front of her building and was about to head up the stairs when she saw Deke, sauntering down the other side of the street. Though her immediate reaction was to duck up the stairs and avoid him, she realized that for the first time in her life, she actually had something she wanted to ask him.

  “Deke!” she called, waving.

  “Hey, Mary! I was just coming to see you.”

  “What a coincidence. Have you got a moment to chat?”

  “All the time in the world for you, sweetheart. Come on. Let me buy you a drink at Layla’s!”

  Before she could steer him upstairs to her office he’d swooped her two doors down the street, into the icy dark coolness of Layla’s, and his usual booth in the corner. After ordering two gin-and-tonics, he loosened his tie and sank back in the seat. She had not seen him in a few days and he looked worn around the edges, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Sure. Why? Do I look sick?” He sat up straighter, immediately at attention.

  “No. Just not quite yourself.”

  “Honestly, I am so ready for fall to come. This has been one shitty summer.” He blew out a long breath as the waitress brought their drinks. “I can’t get the financing worked out on that golf course deal, the Bear Den specs aren’t ready, hell, I can’t even get my softball team to bat over two-thirty.”

  “I guess that could happen when one of your players loses her sister.” Mary gently reminded him of the summer’s true tragedy.

  “Oh, and Bethany Daws!” He picked up on the cue at once. “That’s the worst of all. That poor girl. I don’t think Glenn and Paula are ever going to get over it.”

  “I see them going to
their therapy sessions every week,” said Mary. “Dana must be doing them some good.”

  “I don’t know.” Deke’s brows wrinkled above his nose. “Glenn’s still a basket case. He never used to miss a ball game—hell, he was my assistant coach. Now he hardly ever shows up at all.”

  Mary watched a droplet of water make its way down her icy glass. This was going to be easier than she’d thought. Deke himself had opened the door, now all she had to do was step in. “Did Glenn and Bethany have a good relationship?”

  Deke shrugged. “Not particularly. Why?”

  “You mentioned once what a troubled girl she was. I just wondered if anyone had ever figured out why. The papers haven’t made any mention of that.”

  For an instant he looked puzzled, then he leaned forward. “I wouldn’t want this to get back to Glenn or Paula,” he confided. “But Bethany slept around.”

  Mary stifled a laugh at his small-town naiveté. “Deke, by our eighty-seven standards, almost all teenage girls sleep around.”

  “No, I mean pathologically.” He tapped his red swizzle stick on the side of his glass. “She tried to hook up with everybody. Old men, married men, tourists stopping at the café . . . Hell, she used to come on to me after our softball games.”

  Mary blinked. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I tried to josh her out of it, you know? Keep things light, but it got ugly at the end.”

  “How do you mean?”

  He spread his hands, helpless. “I finally had to tell her that I was a grown man. I liked women, not little girls. Bethany got real mad after that. Starting spreading all sorts of rumors about me.”

  “Rumors?” Mary frowned, trying to square this girl with the one Ridge Standingdeer regarded as an angel from heaven.

  “That I’d tried to rape her, that I’d been having sex with her for years.” Deke looked pale beneath his freckles and took another swallow of his drink. “When that didn’t work, she started telling everyone that I was gay, that I’d fucked boys in the church basement.”

  “That’s interesting.” Mary sat back, trying to fit this piece of the Bethany puzzle together with the others. Today alone, the girl had been described as an angel, a drunk, and now a rumor-mongering nymphomaniac. “How exactly did it end?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said it got ugly at the end. How did it end?”

  He blew out another stream of gin-enhanced breath. “I hate to admit this, but I told her that if she ever came on to me again, I would take away her scholarship.”

  “So you thought taking away the one thing she truly wanted would make her quit her bad behavior?”

  “Worked for my parents when I was a kid,” he replied, as if proud of the scars of his childhood. “I screwed up, and I didn’t get the new baseball glove, or the trip to the movies.”

  “Sounds like her problems might have been a bit different from yours, Deke.”

  For an instant, a look of utter rage flickered across his face, then, just as suddenly, it vanished, replaced by his familiar, broad smile and a helpless shake of his head. “Look, maybe I didn’t handle it as well as I could have, Mary, but that girl was trouble. All I knew was that I was going to be mighty glad when she took off for college, if only for her parents’ sake.”

  Mary took a sip of gin. “That’s a sad story.”

  “I know. And please keep it to yourself. I’d rather cut off my arm than cause Glenn or Paula any more pain.”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  They sat in silence until Deke motioned for the waitress to bring them menus. “So, Miss Keener Construction Counsel, since I’ve finally got you here, how about I buy you an early dinner? I can show you the changes to Bear Den.”

  Quickly she swallowed the last of her drink. Bear Den was the last thing she wanted to talk about. “Some other time, Deke. I have some things I really need to catch up on.”

  “Are you sure? The lamb chops are wonderful here.”

  “Let’s both take a rain check,” she said, scooting out of the booth. “Tonight, I need to get back to Little Jump Off. And I need you to give me a lift out there.”

  “If I do, can we talk about Bear Den first thing in the morning?” he asked, never one to give away a simple favor.

  “For sure, Deke,” she lied, flat-out and unrepentant. “There’s nothing I’d like better.”

  29

  After a long and tedious drive to Little Jump Off, Deke dropped Mary off at the front steps. “I’ll call you first thing in the morning,” he said, opting not to stay and chat with Jonathan. “We can talk about Bear Den.”

  “Thanks for the lift, Deke,” she replied, happy to leave Deke’s car and Deke’s music and Deke’s maniacal plans for developing Pisgah County. “I really appreciate it!”

  She watched, with relief, as his sleek Lexus pulled around the curve, then she headed inside the store. There she found Lily napping in her playpen in front of the fireplace while Jonathan was filling two big plastic laundry baskets with toys and diapers.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, noticing three suitcases standing by the front door.

  “I called Pomeroy,” explained Jonathan. “He’s kept that Tennessee job open for me, but he wants me to start immediately.”

  “So you’re leaving right now?” she asked. If she’d come back half an hour later, would she have found the place empty?

  “Tomorrow. For a trial run,” he replied. “I’ve already given Bill Welch the keys to the store. He’ll come open up in the morning.”

  She sat down in the rocking chair, stunned. He smiled at her but worked perfunctorily, making trip after trip upstairs and back. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she followed him up to the bedroom.

  “Jonathan, weren’t we going to talk about this? When you left my office, we hadn’t decided what to do.”

  “I hadn’t talked to Pomeroy then,” he replied helplessly. “If I didn’t commit to something today, he was going to give the position to another guy.”

  “Look, I know this isn’t what we planned, but what am I supposed to do? What would you do?”

  He looked at her for a moment, then took her in his arms. “I don’t know what I would do.”

  “I know what you wouldn’t do,” she told him. “You wouldn’t ignore that mask. You certainly wouldn’t ignore eagle feathers.”

  He was silent.

  “I only broke my promise because of that mask.” She reached up and turned his face toward hers. “It doesn’t change my feelings toward you and Lily at all.”

  “It doesn’t change mine, either, Mary. But what about the next mask? The next eagle feather? I thought about this all afternoon. You’re a born hunter, just like me. Your quarry’s different, but the chase is still the same.”

  “But I was willing to stop. I want to live with you and Lily.”

  “I know you do,” he whispered, gently tracing the line of her jaw. “But I don’t think you can stop, any more than I can.” He gave a deep sigh. “I love you more than anything, but I can’t live wondering when the next mask will show up, and how far away it will take you.”

  “Oh, Jonathan.” She fought back tears. Eagle feather be damned, she wished she’d brought that mask to hurl in the river and bring its five hundred years of misery to an end.

  “Look, let’s just enjoy being together tonight. Lily and I will head over to Tennessee tomorrow and check things out. I’ll call you from there. Who knows? The job might suck, you might get Standingdeer off immediately. It’s not the end of the world.”

  She felt like a fool; felt even worse than she had the night Jonathan told her he was marrying Ruth Moon. She should never have come back here. She should have just stayed in Peru, with sweet, good-hearted Gabe. Still, she wasn’t going to beg Jonathan to give her another chance, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him see her cry. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said, lifting her head to smile. “Living together is a pretty big step. Maybe we should both give it a second tho
ught.”

  He started to say something else, then Lily wailed. Mary gave her a bath while Jonathan caught trout for supper. They had as festive an evening as they could, drinking beer and shooting fireworks over the river, much to Lily’s delight. After they put her to bed they made love. Long acquainted with the curves and angles of her body, he touched her with a surety that was his alone. She responded in kind, hungry for the hardness of his body, the smell of his skin as she tried to embed the taste of him firmly in her brain. When they finally finished they lay in each other’s arms, listening to the croak of a bullfrog, lost in their own thoughts. Though they tried to sleep, neither of them could, and finally they got up. Mary made a pot of coffee and they drank it, watching the sun rise over the river. Then Lily was awake and it was time for diapers and breakfast and all the other chores that toddlers entail. Soon Bill Welch came to open the store, and they had to go. Jonathan buckled Lily in her car seat and once again took Mary in his arms.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied. “Take care of Lily.”

  She stood and watched as they drove off. Jonathan beeped his horn twice, Lily waved a small, star-shaped hand, then they were gone. Through the mountains, to Tennessee, to a life that once again did not include her. For a moment, she thought her heart was going to shatter, right there on the porch of Little Jump Off. Then she got in her own car and headed to town. Desperately she longed to follow them, but she’d promised to help Ridge. So with aching familiarity, she once again worked on packing away her feelings for Jonathan Walkingstick.

  By the time she pulled up in front of her office, she was ready to share with Ravenel all she’d learned about Bethany. She was halfway up the stairs when she remembered that she needed an answering machine for her office—if she was truly going to practice law and play detective, she had to do more than just catch phone calls on the fly. Also, she would hate to miss a call from Jonathan, should he ring her office number. Shouldering her purse, she turned and headed back down to Sutton’s Hardware.

  She went inside the store, interrupting a passionate embrace between Sylvia Goins and her sweetheart, Ruben Morales, from the Mercado Hispaño across the street. As soon as she walked in, Ruben jumped back from Sylvia and scurried for the door, red-faced.