‘How tall is he?’ Luna asked.
‘Shorter than me by a few inches.’ I felt slightly sick as I said it. ‘Just about the right height.’
‘We’ll ask Elizabeth in the morning. She said she recognized the stalker when he came in shooting, so she’ll know if it was this Thomas character or not.’
‘You’re right. She did recognize him. Which means it can’t be Thomas because she knows him.’
‘We’ll ask,’ Luna repeated.
BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999
The next morning we went to LaGrange to pick up the kids. I was eating some of Aunt Louise’s wonderful baked goods and she was in the middle of a story about a friend of hers whose son was murdered by a guy wielding a hacksaw. It took a while but the guy obviously got the job done. I was half-listening, the other part of my mind was thinking about how much Monique would have loved the story. Pretty, tiny Monique with her penchant for Freddy Krueger movies and heavy metal music. Monique, at sixteen a senior, was such a dichotomy of the teenager: silly and serious, childlike and grown-up. Would Megan and Bessie be like that when they were sixteen? Would they apply their mascara remembering exactly how Barbie dressed for the ‘big date?’ Would they switch from MTV to the Disney Channel with such abandon? Would they hide their secrets with grown-up next-door-neighbors?
I sat up straight on the horsehair sofa. My God, I thought. Oh my God!
‘What is it?’ Willis asked.
‘We have to go home.’
‘Honey, we can’t go home—’
I stood up. ‘Willis! We have to go home now!’
I ran for the front door, turning to Aunt Louise. ‘You’ll keep the kids?’
She was standing, her short, pudgy body all aquiver from the excitement she knew was there but didn’t understand. ‘Of course!’
In my mind, as I ran for the car, I could hear Aunt Louise say, ‘Run! Run like the wind!’
I did.
FOURTEEN
I have to think, think, think! This is wrong! All of it! Wrong, wrong, wrong!! Why can’t she see I’m doing the right thing here? If she keeps resisting me like this, I may have to just let her go. But she needs to be with her real family, her birth family, and I can definitely make that happen!
GRAHAM, THE PRESENT
It was dark out. No moon. The only light came from the headlights of my Valiant as it roared through the night and the dark woods, heading in search of the stalker. He had been heading toward Black Cat when he’d tried to throw Lotta in the river, so that’s where I was going. My theory was that he wouldn’t – couldn’t stay in Black Cat, but would be somewhere close. Black Cat was a lopsided circle in the middle of the woods north of Codderville. We’d follow that circle, check out roads leading off the main road, check for cabins. Do whatever we could do until we found him.
‘I don’t get it,’ Leon said.
‘Don’t get what?’ I asked, not caring what he did or did not get.
‘We’re just gonna drive around? What are the chances we’re going to find this guy doing that?’ Leon asked.
‘About a thousand to one!’ Tad said from the back seat.
‘More like a million to one,’ Hollister said.
I slammed on the brakes. There was no one behind us – no one in front of us – hell, no one anywhere. ‘Y’all don’t wanna do this, fine. Get out. I’ll go on my own.’
‘Hey, man, don’t be like that,’ Leon said.
‘Shit, Graham, this is a dumb idea!’ Hollister said. ‘I wanna catch this asshole just about as much as you do. Hell, you don’t mess with our Black Cat women, know what I mean? But, shit, man, this is not the way to do it!’
‘Then what the hell do you propose we do?’ I asked, whirling around in my seat to stare at the two in back.
Hollister and Tad looked at each other, then looked at Leon, who was turned to the back seat, too.
Leon said, ‘Let’s figure out where we’ve seen him. Where he’s been spotted. Figure out the distances one from the other. Calculate—’
Hollister threw his head back on the cushioned backseat. ‘Ah, shit, man. He’s gonna make us do homework!’
‘No, no, no!’ Leon said. ‘This could work! Graham, let’s go back to your house, order a pizza, get on the computer and figure it out.’
‘Pizza!’ Hollister said. ‘Now there’s an idea!’
GRAHAM, APRIL, 2009
They were in the country now, having left Codderville behind. Still no sign of the Valiant. Giant oaks and pine lined the sides of the two-lane blacktop, no shoulder for emergencies. The asphalt was still wet from the earlier storm, slick and dangerous, with potholes hidden by pools of black water. The Chevy rolled along at a fairly fast clip, all eyes out the windows, searching for Grandma Vera’s car. As they made a sharp turn they saw tail lights up ahead.
‘Is that it?’ Megan asked, leaning into the front seat.
Manny patted her shoulder. ‘Let’s get closer, Eddie,’ he said. To Megan, he added, ‘We’ll find out.’
Eddie hit the accelerator, and Megan could feel the ‘G’s pulling at her face. Eddie shined his brights and they could see the car ahead. An antique Valiant. There could be only one in the Codderville area.
The car in front put on their brake lights, slowing. ‘I think he wants you to go around,’ Graham said from the back seat. Thinking fast, he said, ‘Do it. Pass him. Everybody down,’ he said, pushing Megan’s head toward the floor.
They could feel the Chevy accelerate once again, could feel the wheel turn slightly as they moved into the oncoming lane, then back.
‘Stay low,’ Graham ordered, ‘but you guys try to keep an eye out.’
‘You got it, el jeffe,’ Uncle Ernesto said.
‘Slow down,’ Graham told the driver, ‘we need to keep ’em in sight.’
‘Got it,’ Eddie said, taking his foot off the accelerator and slowly letting the speed lessen.
They were approximately four car lengths ahead of the Valiant when there came another tight corner. Eddie applied the brake, slowing the Chevy down even more to make the turn. A straightaway was ahead and he coasted into it, keeping his eye on the rearview mirror.
All eyes were staring out the back window of the Chevy. Nothing happened. Eddie let the car slow more. Finally Graham said, ‘Stop. We lost ’em.’
‘No, man, they turned off!’ Manny said. ‘Eddie, back up! We gotta see where they turned off, man!’
Eddie put the car in reverse.
‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!’ Lotta said from Graham’s lap. ‘Don’t back up, you idiot! Turn around! What if somebody else decides to use this public road? Gawd!’ she said, leaning back against Graham. Turning to him, she said, ‘You see where I come from? You see the adversity I’ve had to overcome? A family of complete idiots!’
‘You’re a strong woman,’ Graham said, his hand on her tiny nipped in waist.
‘Graham!’ Megan said, turning his attention back to the problem at hand.
Driving down the correct lane in the correct direction, Eddie eased the Chevy around the bend. There they saw an almost invisible dirt road, leading off to the left.
‘Cut the lights!’ Lotta ordered.
‘I’m gonna hit something!’ Eddie protested.
‘So we hit something! Get over it!’ Lotta ordered.
‘But my Chevy . . .’ Eddie wailed.
‘Just do it, man,’ Manny said. ‘Or you know she’s gonna hurt you.’
Eddie turned off the Chevy’s headlights and turned on to the dirt road. All could feel the Chevy slipping and sliding in the mud caused by the heavy rain.
‘We’re gonna get stuck!’ Eddie protested.
‘Try to drive like you know what you’re doing!’ Lotta ordered.
‘There it is!’ Megan yelled, pointing at the tail end of the Valiant peeking out of some bushes to the right of the road. In front of where the Valiant had pulled off was a mud puddle the size of Dallas.
Eddie put on the brakes. ‘I ain’t driving through th
at!’ he said, arms across his chest. Eddie had taken a stand.
‘Everybody out,’ Graham said, ‘and be quiet!’
ELIZABETH, THE PRESENT
I had decided not to walk to the hospital. It was too far and it was too dark outside and, frankly, I was too scared. I’m woman enough to admit that. I was going to take Grandma’s new car instead. I know what you’re thinking: that that was an irresponsible thing to do, that I was showing my immaturity, that I wasn’t thinking straight. Well, all of those things might be true, but I needed to see Alicia, make sure she was OK, and tell her how sorry I was. None of that could wait until morning.
My grandma has four dogs – two shelties, a German Shepherd, and a pound puppy named Ingrid. Ingrid weighs about two hundred pounds and likes to sit on people. Ingrid, thank God, was kept outside at night because she liked to jump on Grandma in the middle of the night – all two hundred pounds of her. Since Grandma might weigh as much as me, around one hundred pounds, the chances of Ingrid killing Grandma in the middle of the night are pretty good. So she stays outside. At least I didn’t have to worry about being sat upon as I tried to sneak out. Dobie and Dufus, the shelties, are always happy to see anyone at any time, and they tend to bark, squeal and jump around banging into things when they see someone. Mary Margaret, the German Shepherd, growls. And it’s very scary. So I had to find a way to get out of the house that meant not getting out of the bedroom wing by either the door into the rest of the house or the window in the room I shared with Megan that went into the backyard, where Ingrid, the two-hundred-pound pound puppy, resided.
I knew a way. I snuck out of the bedroom through the door to the hall, being as quiet as possible, and snuck into Grandma’s sewing room. That room had two windows – one into the backyard, the other just a few inches on the freedom side of the fence. I crawled over boxes and bags of scraps and beads and bangles and made it to the window, which, it turns out, was painted shut.
I sighed. But I wasn’t through trying. I had a mission and planned on completing it. I had Grandma’s room, which had a freedom window on the other side of the house, or the bathroom, which had a high, small window that actually balanced the fence on that side. I figured the worst that could happen was that Ingrid would lean on my leg, which wouldn’t be pleasant, but was something I could handle.
So I headed to the bathroom. I used the facilities, then closed the lid to the toilet and climbed on top of it to reach the window. It was not painted shut. It was smaller than I remembered but still doable. I moved the shampoos, conditioners, moisturizers, lotions, and so on off the windowsill, opened the window and managed to get my head through. I maneuvered my shoulders through and was balanced on my stomach shoving mightily when I realized my hips were stuck. Jeez, I thought, when did I get hips? I was delighted and stymied at the same time. Then fear and frustration took over.
I tried going in, I tried going out, nothing worked. After a particularly painful forward thrust, I opened my eyes to see Ingrid staring up at me. Her tongue was lolling and she was smiling at me. ‘Go away!’ I whispered.
I tried twisting. It didn’t work. I tried bouncing. It didn’t work. I thought longingly of the lotions I’d moved to get to the window. None were in reach. I could have lotioned up my womanly hips and slid right out. I was very close to tears – of frustration – when the light came on in the bathroom. I froze. Of course, there wasn’t much else I could do.
‘Well, you’re certainly in a pickle,’ Grandma Vera said.
‘Hi, Grandma,’ I said from outside.
‘You wanna come in, honey, ’cause you’re not going out.’
‘Yes, ma’am, I’d like to come in, but I’m stuck.’
‘Hum,’ she said. ‘It does serve you right, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said.
‘Well, just hold on while I do my business, then we’ll see about getting you out,’ she said.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said, and balanced myself on the sill.
She did her business and then said, ‘I’m gonna go get Megan.’
‘Oh no, Grandma, please don’t!’ I pleaded.
‘Why not?’
‘Because she’ll give me hell about this for the rest of my life!’
Grandma laughed. ‘Why do you think I’m going to get her?’
And that’s when I saw him: a man walking down the street carrying an assault rifle. Headed for Grandma’s house.
I started kicking my feet wildly and whispering, ‘Grandma! Wait!’
‘What?’
‘He’s here! He’s coming to the house!’
All of a sudden I could feel Grandma’s hands trying to push me aside so she could see out the window. Not only was there not enough room for her to do that, she wasn’t tall enough to look out the window without standing on something.
‘You sure it’s him?’ she asked.
‘Yes!’
‘Sic Ingrid on him! You can reach the gate, right?’
Since I was practically straddling the fence – well, the top part of me anyway – if I stretched myself way out I could reach the gate. I did so and unlatched it. Ingrid had already seen her quarry and shot like a bullet from the gate to the sidewalk where the man was lurking. As I was stretched out trying to see what was going on, I fell to the ground on my face.
BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999
We broke all the speeding laws and several other moving violations, making the fifty miles from LaGrange to Codderville in less than forty-five minutes.
‘We can’t go back to the house!’ Willis said as he drove in that direction.
‘We have to!’ I said.
‘Why?’ he demanded.
‘Because I think there’s something there that could explain what’s going on.’
‘Then let’s stop right now and call Luna and have her meet us there.’
‘No! What if I’m wrong? I couldn’t stand that again with Luna. She gets so uppity!’
‘Well, I couldn’t stand it if one of us got killed!’ He sighed. ‘What do you think’s there?’
I sighed right back. ‘You know when I told you last year that Monique was getting letters at our house from that boyfriend of hers who joined the Marines?’
‘Yeah, and I told you that was a total betrayal of your friendship with Terry and you said you’d tell Monique not to do it!’ he said.
‘Well, I didn’t have to. They broke up and the letters stopped.’
‘OK . . .’ He motioned with his hand for me to go on – and be quick about it.
‘A few days before . . . before it happened, Monique brought me a manila envelope.’
‘What?’ Willis said, looking at me and not the road he was taking at close to ninety miles an hour.
I pointed at the road and he turned his eyes back to driving. ‘She asked me not to look in it but to hide it.’
‘Jesus, E.J.! It could be drugs, or some other contraband for all you know!’ Eyes darting back to me. I pointed ahead again.
‘I thought it was boy stuff! It could still be! I thought it was just Monique stuff. You know how dramatic she gets— got,’ I said, tears springing to my eyes. I wiped them with the back of my hand. ‘And that’s probably what it is, I don’t know. But Willis, that school counselor . . .’
‘Mrs Olson,’ he said.
‘Hurry,’ I said.
E.J., THE PRESENT
‘Can you think of anybody else?’ Luna asked me as she slouched down in the couch with her second glass of wine.
‘Most of the guys the age of the stalker are young marrieds. I mean, we don’t have a lot of single guys in their twenties hanging around the church.’
‘What about people who work there?’ she asked.
‘OK, we’ve got two clergy, the music director, the youth director, the children’s director, the church secretary—’
‘Could that be our guy dressed up again?’ Luna asked.
I shook my head. ‘No. I’ve known Candy since we started going there.
She’s my age. Her kids go to youth group with my kids.’
‘Anybody else?’ she asked.
‘Just maintenance. A cleaning lady and a maintenance man.’
‘What about the maintenance man?’
I shook my head. ‘He’s new, but he’s Hispanic and about sixty. Don’t think he’s our guy.’
‘What about anybody involved in any of the cases you’ve helped me with?’
‘Helped you with? You mean solved for you?’ I said.
‘Actually, no I don’t. I mean helped. Don’t get full of yourself, Pugh. Any ideas?’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Not that I can think of.’
‘This is getting us nowhere,’ Luna said as she put her empty glass down on the coffee table and picked up the bottle of white. She left the glass where it was and upended the bottle, taking three big gulps before it was empty. ‘Got any more? I prefer red,’ she said.
GRAHAM, THE PRESENT
When we got home, Mom was in the living room with Mrs Luna from next door, a couple of empty bottles of wine in front of them.
‘Where have you been?’ Mom asked.
‘Out,’ I said as we headed for the stairs.
‘Out where?’ she said, her head lolling to one side.
‘Just riding around,’ I answered, almost to the top.
‘With who?’ she asked, then seeing my buds trailing me said, ‘Oh. Never mind.’ Then she giggled, I shook my head, and we were in my room.
Once in my room, Leon said, ‘I thought your mother was a writer! It should be “with whom” not “who”.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ I said skeptically.
Leon frowned. ‘Well, I’ll admit that’s a hard one.’
I gave him the eye, just grateful I could come to my mother’s defense about something, after having walked in with my buds to her drunken debauchery with another woman.
‘Where’s the computer?’ Leon said, changing the subject lest I pull out an English book and prove him wrong – like I could.
I showed him the computer and he sat down and demanded paper and pen. ‘Hell, you’ve got my computer.’
‘Shut up and give me dates, times, and places!’ Leon said.
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