Wednesday's Child

by Gayle Wilson

  Despite the Indian-summer temperatures of the morning, this rain felt winter cold, and she was soaked to the skin. He needed to get her somewhere warm and dry, or she was liable to end up with pneumonia. If she did, he’d never hear the end of it from Lorena.

  “Come on,” he said, turning to head back to the pickup. The cab should still be fairly warm.

  “Where?”

  “To Lorena’s.” As he looked back at her, he raised his voice to make sure she could hear him over the downpour.

  “What about the wrecker?”

  “Leave them a note. Tell them they can take the car to Reynolds.”

  “Reynolds?”

  “It’s the service station on the square. He’ll pay them tonight. You can pay him tomorrow.”

  “But…will he be open on a Sunday night?” she asked as she walked over to where he had stopped.

  Probably not, Jeb realized. Like it or not, they were stuck here until the tow truck from Pascagoula showed up.

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s a lot dryer inside my truck than it is out here.”

  He automatically put his hand in the small of her back, urging her toward his vehicle. This time she cooperated, walking ahead of him as he made his slow and careful way over the uneven ground. As he neared the passenger side, he looked up to find she’d been watching him as she waited. Without meeting her eyes, he reached out and opened the passenger door.

  “There’s a handgrip,” he said, gesturing toward it. Although she was tall for a woman, probably five-seven or five-eight, she used it to climb up into the high cab. As soon as she was settled, he slammed the door and started around the back. Now that he knew she couldn’t see him, he held on to the enclosed bed of the truck for balance.

  The dull, familiar ache in his leg had already started. Susan wasn’t the only one who needed to get in out of the cold.

  He opened the driver’s-side door and, gritting his teeth against the pain, climbed into the seat. As soon as he closed the door, killing the interior light, he became aware of the intimacy of their situation.

  The intensity of the rain would hold them prisoner as they waited for the arrival of the wrecker. Something over which they had no control.

  “Did Lorena send you to find me?”

  He debated telling her the truth. His great-aunt’s anxiety had been a factor, of course, but she would never have asked him to go out in this, no matter how worried she was. That had been his decision. Given what he’d discovered, it was one he couldn’t regret, even knowing what it would cost him tomorrow.

  “Lorena takes her responsibilities seriously,” he said. “You’re her guest. That makes you hers to look after.”

  Her laughter was a breath of sound. “I was thinking on the way home how unaccustomed I am to having someone worry about me. And how welcome her solicitude would be,” she added softly. “I didn’t expect it to extend to rescue missions, however.”

  “Did you need rescuing?” He hadn’t forgotten that she’d been hiding when he’d arrived.

  “A figure of speech. I didn’t mean to sound melodramatic.”

  “It’s obvious you weren’t trying to avoid the tow truck by hiding in those bushes, Ms. Chandler, so I’m curious as to who you were avoiding.”

  The rain seemed to beat down with renewed force as he waited for her answer. Or maybe in the sudden silence after his question he was simply more aware of it.

  “Someone in an outsized pickup,” she said finally.

  Since the description was a little too apt, he turned to look at her. She was staring out the windshield, so that he could see only her profile. Despite the darkness, he could discern the delicate shape of her nose and the slight upward angle of her chin. Its tilt was almost challenging.

  “Are you talking about…my truck?”

  Despite the fact that he hadn’t been particularly welcoming last night, he didn’t believe that anything he’d said would be grounds for trying to avoid him. Besides, she couldn’t have had any idea he would embark on this knight-errant foolishness.

  Susan turned at the question, meeting his eye. “I’m talking about the truck that ran me off the road.”

  The truck that ran me off the road…. There was only one possible interpretation of that.

  “Are you saying someone forced you off the road?”

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, but…that’s what he did.”

  “He?”

  “I guess I just assumed it was a man, maybe because of the size of the truck. I didn’t actually see the driver.”

  “But you’re sure he deliberately ran you off the road?” Jeb made no attempt to hide his skepticism. That kind of thing didn’t happen around here.

  “Yes.” She offered no explanation for her certainty. And made no defense of it.

  “Why would someone run you off the road?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was impatient because I was being careful. Or because I blinked my lights to get him to turn his down. All I know is he headed directly toward me, and that he was flying.”

  When she’d mentioned the driver being impatient, he had pictured someone coming up behind her as she was negotiating an unfamiliar highway in the rain. The part about blinking her lights didn’t seem to fit that scenario.

  “He was behind you? Or approaching you?”

  “Both. Actually…” She took a breath, seeming to gather control. “He approached a couple of times. During the last one it was obvious that if I didn’t move over he would ram my car. Since he had a distinct size advantage…”

  “You’re telling me someone went past you and then turned around and came back in order to force you off the road.”

  “Or maybe he just made a U-turn,” she said.

  As he had done. Which meant she’d been watching his arrival from her hiding place. And if what she had just claimed happened really did take place, it was no wonder she hadn’t wanted to be waiting inside her car when…

  “You thought I was the person who ran you off the road.”

  “I thought it was a distinct possibility. He’d already made a couple of passes at me.”

  “After you went off the road?”

  “I didn’t mean that. He passed me coming from town and then turned around and came up behind me. When he went around my car, he sat on his horn. Then the next time…That’s when he came at me. When I saw you go by, all I knew was that the size and color of your truck were the same as the other.”

  He couldn’t tell from her tone if she still suspected he might have been its driver. Of course, she had responded to his call once she’d recognized him.

  “I can’t believe anybody around here would do that.”

  “I thought it might be kids. Showing off. Terrorizing the tourists.”

  He thought about the possibility. His few encounters with the local population during the months he’d spent here hadn’t extended to any of the teenage population. Judging by the acts of violence the papers reported in other places, he supposed it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that some local kids, drunk or stoned, might have pulled this kind of stunt.

  “You are going to report what happened to the sheriff?”

  “I don’t have a lot to tell him. I doubt big, dark pickups are all that rare in this area.”

  They weren’t, of course, as evidenced by the one they were sitting in. His was perhaps bigger than most, but a lot of the local farmers used their trucks for hauling supplies and produce and even for towing trailers filled with livestock. All of which called for heavy-duty vehicles.

  “Besides, I get the feeling Sheriff Adams thinks I should just go back home and wait for someone else to figure out what happened to my daughter. The problem is, if I do that, I don’t think anyone ever will.”

  He knew from town gossip Lorena had repeated to him today that most people believed the baby’s body must have been washed downriver. Under certain conditions the currents in the Escatawpa could certainly be strong enough to take a chi
ld out of a father’s hands, which according to Lorena was Wayne Adams’s explanation of what had happened.

  “She would be eight years old now,” Susan went on, the anger he’d heard before no longer in her voice, leaving it flat and hard. “Everyone said she looked like Richard, but…with babies that age, it’s so hard to tell. And now…”

  He waited through the silence, knowing there was nothing he could say that would temper the pain of her loss. Despite the passage of time, it was all still there in her voice.

  Her chin lifted again as she swallowed the emotion that had threatened her control. Slowly she shook her head.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but I’d know if she were dead. I’d know.” The declaration was almost fierce, brooking no argument. “She isn’t. She’s out there somewhere. Without anyone of her own.”

  “Ms. Chandler—”

  “That was the one thought I clung to all those years. That she was with Richard. I hated him for taking her away from me. I cursed him for not telling me where she was or why he’d taken her, but…no matter how bitter I was toward him, there was no doubt in my mind that he loved her. And I knew he’d take care of her.”

  The rain pounding on the roof was the only sound in the cab after her last impassioned sentence. Even their breathing seemed suspended.

  “Now…” she said again, turning to face him. “Don’t you see? Now I’m all she has. I just can’t let her go on thinking that no one has been looking for her.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I’M NOT EXACTLY SURE about what you want me to do, Ms. Chandler.”

  Susan had known this would be an exercise in futility. She couldn’t believe she’d let the Bedfords talk her into calling the sheriff’s office. There was nothing he could do about what had happened last night. Reporting it only made her appear the hysterical type.

  “I didn’t think there was anything you could or necessarily should do. I simply wanted to make you aware of the situation. It did occur in your jurisdiction.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And I can tell you that things like that don’t normally happen around here.”

  She wasn’t certain if he were doubting her word or defending his constituents. Not until he went on.

  “Probably kids. There’s a bunch of wild-as-bucks young’uns across the county line. Sheriff over there’s had a lot of trouble out of them. I’ll give him a call and see if he recognizes that pickup as belonging to one of them. They may have seen your out-of-state tags and decided to make a little mischief. And I’ll make sure there’s a deputy on that stretch of road after sundown tonight. Don’t you worry about traveling around here. Now that we know what’s been going on, we can keep a closer eye on things. What about your car? Any damage?”

  “Some. I’m not sure yet how extensive it is. I had it towed into Reynolds last night. It was probably still drivable, but I had to get the wrecker to pull it out of the ditch, so I decided to let them bring it on into town and check it out.”

  “You ride in with them?”

  She wasn’t sure what business that was of his, but small towns probably worked differently than somewhere like Atlanta. Maybe that came from everyone knowing what everyone else was doing. Maybe they eventually considered it to be a right.

  “Actually, Mr. Bedford came out to get me.”

  “Jeb Bedford?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, that’s good. Must mean he’s a lot better than the last time I saw him.”

  There was no way she could comment on that, not with both Jeb and Lorena listening. Besides, she had no idea what Jeb’s condition had been the last time the sheriff saw him.

  “As I indicated,” she went on, ignoring what Adams had said, “I just wanted to make you aware of the incident.”

  “You think of anything else that might help Sheriff Tate out in identifying the kids involved, you let me know.”

  Tate must be the sheriff of the adjoining county. It was apparent that Adams didn’t intend to pursue any investigation of the citizens of this one, having apparently already made up his mind about who had run her off the road last night.

  Since she had also speculated that it could be kids, she didn’t know why having the sheriff jump to that conclusion bothered her. To be fair, Adams knew these people far better than she did. And judging by Lorena’s shock when she’d told her what had happened, things like this really weren’t common occurrences around here. Thank God.

  “I will,” she promised. “And thank you.”

  “You bet. You take care now, you hear?”

  “About the medical examiner’s report,” she managed to say before he could hang up. “You think I can expect it today?”

  “I doubt that, Ms. Chandler, with the weekend and all.”

  “Could you ask?”

  “Be glad to. I’ll give you a call if the M.E.’s done.”

  The click on the other end of the line signified the connection had been rather abruptly broken. So that she couldn’t ask more questions? Or prompt him to do more checking for her? Her suspicions about the sheriff’s motives made her as guilty of jumping to conclusions as he’d been, she conceded.

  She hung up and turned to face her hostess, who had been listening to every word with avid interest. Susan shrugged to indicate that Adams had offered little in the way of solutions.

  “What did he say?” Lorena prodded.

  “He thinks it might have been kids from the next county. He suggested that when they saw the out-of-state tag, they decided to harass the driver. Apparently they’re notorious for that kind of wildness. He said he’d contact the sheriff over there and report the incident.”

  Jeb Bedford made some sound. Although soft, it had clearly been derisive.

  “You hush now,” his aunt chided. “Somebody over there vandalized the high school. You remember that.”

  “What I remember is that Wayne Adams is never going to do any more than he has to.”

  “I didn’t give him a lot to work with,” Susan said.

  “You really think it would have mattered if you had?”

  Jeb was probably right. It seemed to her that the sheriff had made up his mind even before she’d given him the few details she had. Still, there was nothing else she could do. She had made a report of the incident, as the Bedfords had urged her to. Whether the sheriff pursued it was out of her control.

  “Do you think I should call the service station and ask about the car?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject. “Or do you think they’ve had time yet to look at it?”

  Jeb glanced at his watch. “I don’t think they open until eight.”

  She had forgotten how early it was. And besides, she had exhausted the avenues of investigation Mrs. Bedford had given her. Unless her hostess or Jeb had others to offer, it really didn’t matter that she was temporarily without transportation.

  “I guess I’m anxious to have it in working order again. I’m not accustomed to being without a car.”

  “You’re welcome to use my truck.”

  She looked up to find Jeb’s eyes on her, their sky-blue again startling against the darkly tanned skin and black lashes.

  “Thank you, but it’s quite a bit larger than I’m used to.”

  “It drives the same as your car. It just takes more room to park. And it’s an automatic.”

  He had asked that question before he’d agreed to move her car to the back. She was surprised to detect a hint of amusement in his reminder of their conversation that night.

  “I don’t think I’d feel comfortable borrowing it, as much as I appreciate the offer.”

  “It’s insured. If someone runs you off the road again, it’s covered.”

  “Nobody’s gonna run her off the road,” Lorena said sharply. “It’s like Wayne said. Just some kids on a tear.”

  “Why would you think someone might try to do that again?” Susan challenged, sensing more in Jeb’s comment than the subtle teasing of the previous one.

  “You
said that the first time you saw them, they were approaching your car.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then how would they see your tag?”

  He was right, Susan realized. There was only a dealership plate on the front of the Toyota. Of course, they could have seen the Georgia tag when they’d come flying up behind her, but that would have been their second pass. Made after they had turned around and come back to harass her.

  Although she told herself there were other possible explanations for their decision, she felt the same dread she’d felt as she’d watched those headlights come closer and closer. In the cold light of day she had dismissed last night’s terror as an overreaction. Now Jeb seemed to be suggesting that she hadn’t been a random victim.

  “It didn’t have to have anything to do with her tag,” Lorena said. “That was just Wayne’s get-up. And any reason you come up with for what they did doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. There’s just some crazy people in this world, and there always will be. That doesn’t mean you have to worry about something like that happening again. If you’d feel better, Jeb could drive you around.”

  Watching his eyes widen in response to his aunt’s suggestion, Susan wasn’t sure which of them was more shocked. Neither responded for several seconds.

  “I’m sure Mr. Bedford has more important things to do,” she said, letting him off the hook before he had to come up with a reason to say no. “Besides, I’ve already talked to everyone you mentioned. Unless you’ve thought of someone else…”

  She let the sentence trail, hoping her diversion would work. In spite of her gratitude for his rescue last night, she didn’t want to spend the day in Jeb Bedford’s company. And she was certain he was no more eager to be thrust together in the confined space of his truck than she was.

  “Who did you talk to?” Jeb asked.

  “The people Lorena mentioned. And any others they suggested. The deputies. The bank. The lady who runs the café on the square. The grocery stores. I even talked to the people who worked at the hotel before it closed.”