Shelby put her hands to her face and let the tears flow down her face. Sonny wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead.
The officer left, and Shelby said, “Would Sonny go to the hospital to see Cassie? To tell her?”
“He doesn’t know she’s in the hospital,” Shane said. “She couldn’t reach him, remember?”
“If he went to her house to tell her about Marcia, her family could have told him where she is.”
“Call Floyd Marsh,” Miriam said. “Please.”
Shane placed the call. “Mr. Marsh, I’m a friend of Cassie’s, and I’m looking for Dawson Penfield. I’m wondering if he has come by your house today? … No? Okay, thank you. But if he does, sir, would you please have him call his mother? ... Yes. Thank you.” Shane hung up the phone.
“He’s out riding around,” Miriam said quietly. “He’ll come home when he’s ready.”
Grant stood at the nurse’s station, waiting while the nurse prepared the sedative. Across the hall, completely oblivious to what was happening, Cassie was resting after the birth of her little girl.
“Hey, Cassie.” Grant forced a smile as he entered her room.
Cassie’s eyes widened and a delighted smile spread across her face. He noticed how pretty she was, and how relaxed she seemed, now that the birth was over. “Grant! What a … I never expected to see you here! Wow! I’m surprised they even let you in! Isn’t it after visiting hours?”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so bad at staying in touch,” he smiled back. How was he going to tell her this terrible news when she was so happy to see him? He looked around the room. “Is Sonny here?”
“Sonny? No. I haven’t heard from Sonny. But Shane and Shelby were here, and they were going to tell him. They brought me in, and Shelby was my coach. She did great! It’s a girl, by the way.”
“Congratulations.”
Cassie kept her eyes on his. “Did you know the Penfields are taking it?”
“What?”
“Sonny’s claiming paternity, and they’re going to raise it.”
“He knows it’s Blake’s?”
“Yes. He and his mother want to claim it … her … and that’s fine with me.”
Grant stared at her. “So you and Sonny aren’t back together again?”
Cassie shook her head, her eyes trained on his. “Is that what you thought? Is that why you stayed away?”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Are you back with Corey?”
“Corey? No. I’m not with anyone, Cassie.” Grant drew a deep breath. He pulled the room’s armchair closer to her bed and sat down near her, then reached out to hold her hand. At that moment, the phone beside her bed rang.
Cassie gave him an exasperated smile as she withdrew her hand so she could reach for the phone.
“Don’t answer that,” he said, grabbing her hand back.
A quizzical look crossed her face. “Why not? I’ll just say I’ll call back.”
“Cass, I need to tell you about something that has happened. And I don’t want you to get it on the phone.”
Her eyes widened. “My dad? Something happened to my dad?”
“No, Cass, something happened to Marcia.” Grant felt the tears welling in his eyes, and he knew his voice was going to crack momentarily. “Marcia has died.”
Cassie sat up straight in the bed and frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Marcia died this afternoon, Cass. I’m not making this up.”
Cassie pulled her hand from his. “How?”
“Take it slow, Cass. Take deep breaths.”
“How did she die?” The words came out forcefully, angrily now.
Grant drew a breath of his own. “There was a shooting at the trailer. Teddy shot her, Cass. He came home unexpectedly, and she wasn’t alone. He shot her and the guy.”
Cassie’s eyes widened even more and all the color drained from her face. “Teddy killed her? He killed Marcia?” Her words came out in breathy bursts as though she were having trouble breathing. “And somebody else? Who?”
“I don’t know, Cass, and that’s the truth. The state police aren’t giving out any information.”
“Do you have any idea?”
Grant shook his head. There was no way he was going to tell her that Sonny’s mother was asking around about Sonny.
Cassie leaned back against her pillows and closed her eyes, then put her hands to her face as sobs began to wrack her body. But she didn’t scream or become hysterical, the way he had feared she might. He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. “I can stay here with you, Cassie, if that helps. Or I can go if you want to be alone.”
Cassie put her hand on his; she was crying too hard to speak.
“Okay,” he said quietly, “I’ll be right here.”
The nurse came in to check on her and administered the sedative to keep her from becoming too agitated so soon after delivery. Grant sat in the chair beside her bed and studied her as she drifted into a drugged sleep. This was just the beginning of her pain. She and Marcia had been best friends as far back as he could remember. Losing Marcia this way was going to scar her for the rest of her days. And if the other victim turned out to be Sonny, he wasn’t sure how Cassie would survive. Losing them both would be way too much for her to bear.
He picked up the phone beside her bed and dialed his parents’ number. His mother answered and Grant said softly, “Hi, it’s me. I’m at the hospital with Cassie. She didn’t know but she does now. Have you heard anything new?”
“The only thing I’ve heard is that Loretta can’t locate Clay either. How’s the girl doing?”
“She’s sedated right now. Have you heard anything about Dawson Penfield?”
“The police think he’s the one who called it in from Arthur and Claire’s house. They’re still looking for him so they can find out what he knows. Not that it matters, I would think. It all seems pretty clear, if you ask me. But that means he’s not the other victim, after all. Oh, and Corey was here looking for you again. She’s really worried about how you’re doing. She wants you to come by.”
Grant closed his eyes. When he had finally called his parents after sitting in the cab of Larry’s truck for hours, his mother had told him that Corey had come to the sugarhouse to visit him and had ended up staying to help Larry when Grant didn’t return. She had eventually taken Larry home since Grant was still gone with his truck. He would have to thank her for that and apologize for frightening her and everyone else. But he wasn’t in the mood to connect with Corey just now.
“Thanks. If I hear anything about Dawson, I’ll let somebody know. I’m going to stay here with Cassie for a while.”
“You might want to call Corey.”
“You can call Corey, Mom. I’m staying here with Cassie for now.”
Miriam sat at the kitchen table sipping the cup of tea Shane had brought her. It wasn’t often she was taken care of by someone else, and it made her uncomfortable.
“Where do you think Sonny is now?” Shelby asked quietly. She was sitting beside Miriam, nursing her own cup of tea.
“I don’t know. But he’ll come back when he’s ready.”
“He’s done this before, hasn’t he?”
“Many times.”
“How do you stand it?”
Miriam smiled. “I have to. He’s his own person.”
“Doesn’t it frighten you to death? Wasn’t he gone for like a month or something last time?”
“Yes, it frightens me. I’m always afraid this will be the time he doesn’t come back. But I can’t change him. So, I choose to believe in him instead.”
“I wish I had that kind of self-control,” Shelby said wistfully.
“The first time Sonny went off on his own, he was fourteen. He was gone for a week. He and Nate had a big fight over something, and Sonny just left. But every day, I would find something new on the front doorstep—a different rock or a pine cone or something. It was his way of letting me know he was okay. Becau
se he knew I would worry.”
“Where was he?”
“He had built himself a little shelter in the woods somewhere. He was trying out his independence; learning to live off the land. I think he wanted to see if he could be more like his Indian ancestors. He was very intrigued by that part of his background then.”
Shelby set down her tea cup and concentrated on Miriam’s voice. “So what happened?”
“Well, when he came home, the first thing that happened was Nate gave him a beating.”
Shelby winced.
“So, I told Nate if he ever did that again to the boy, I would kill him. And he knew I meant it. I told him I would poison him one day when he least expected it. He never beat him again. Of course, by the time Sonny was seventeen, he was as big as Nate.”
“But when he was gone on one of his … drinking episodes, I would guess he didn’t leave you signs he was okay.”
“Not like that. Not every day. But he would check in now and then. To let me know he was still … okay.” Miriam closed her eyes, remembering the period before Nate’s death when Sonny was rumored to be living in one of Bobby Glenn’s places. She had begged him to come home then, but he was so down on himself and his future, even she could not reach him.
“Would this set him off again? To start drinking?”
Miriam shook her head. “I don’t think so. He has the farm now. He has responsibility. I think he’ll be back by morning.”
“If you don’t mind, Shane wants to stay here with us until Sonny comes back.”
Miriam smiled wearily. “That’s fine, dear. It’s not necessary, but it’s fine.” She had had a long and tiring day, and so she excused herself, went to her room, set her alarm for five a.m., and went to bed.
She was up at four-thirty, well before the alarm went off. The darkened house was quiet as she shuffled through the kitchen and into the bathroom. When she came out, she crossed the kitchen and went quietly upstairs. Sonny’s room was empty, and his bed showed no signs of being slept in. He had not come home.
She descended the stairs and went into the living room. Shelby’s door was closed, and Shane was asleep beneath the afghan on the couch, his head of sand-colored curls resting on a decorative pillow. The sight of his lanky frame curled uncomfortably on her couch took her by surprise; she had expected he would sleep in the bed with Shelby.
She went back into her room and dressed warmly, then headed out to the barn through the ell, half-hoping to find the lights already on and Sonny hard at work. But all was dark and quiet except for the cows lowing softly in expectation of her arrival. Perhaps she had been wrong about his dedication to the farm, and the thought that he might be drinking again filled her chest with an aching hollowness.
The cat came to greet her when she reached the hay mow, and she bent down to pet her and to check on the kittens. Something silvery among the hay bales caught her eye, and her heart skipped a beat as she moved toward the black and silver of Sonny’s snowmobile suit. He was there, asleep in the loose hay scattered among the bales, his head resting on the crook of his arm, his face tranquil. Seeing him so reminded her of his 4-H days, when he and Natalie would take their calves to the North Haverhill and Tunbridge Fairs and spend the nights with them, sleeping in the stalls. Of course, it was mid-summer then, and sleeping with the cows was part of the adventure.
She moved quietly away from him, at peace now, knowing he was home. His slumber was something to be prolonged, for when he awoke, the pain of reality would return. She went into the cow barn and spoke softly to the animals as she cleaned up behind them. She was scattering the sawdust beneath them when Sonny, dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, came up beside her and silently took the shovel from her hands. He avoided making eye contact, and so she said nothing, but gave him the shovel and moved on to transfer grain to the feed troughs while he finished. They worked silently, side by side, cleaning and prepping the cows before attaching the milking machines, checking the vacuum lines, and watching the milk progress to the tank.
She left him to clean the machines and went back to the house to prepare breakfast. Glances at his averted face had verified what she feared—his eyes were dulled and his expression frozen into an anguish-filled mask. He wanted to be left alone.
Shelby was coming out of the bathroom, and Shane was making coffee when Miriam entered the kitchen.
“Sonny’s back. He’ll be in shortly,” she said. “I don’t think he’s going to want to talk to anyone right now.”
“I’ll go. If I leave by the front door, maybe he won’t even know I was here,” Shane said. “Shel, do you want to stay or go with me?”
Shelby turned her face toward his. “I’m not ready to go. I’m not dressed. If you want to leave right away, go ahead, and I can call you later to come get me.”
Shane nodded. “I’d be more comfortable with that. Mrs. Penfield, thank you. I’m glad he’s home.”
Shane left and Shelby retreated to her room, so that when Sonny entered the kitchen only his mother was there. He disappeared into the bathroom, and Miriam could hear the shower running. She concentrated on cooking bacon and eggs and fried potatoes, and when he came out dressed in fresh clothes, she poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table. He sat down and Miriam stepped behind his chair to give him a hug and softly kiss his cheek. She heard him swallow hard, as though holding back a wave of emotion, and she hugged him again, then returned to the stove.
They ate silently, just the two of them. Shelby remained in her room. When Sonny finished, he took his dishes to the sink, then crossed the room to the door that led upstairs and wordlessly disappeared behind it. Miriam carried her plate and cup to the sink, grateful that he was home but now deeply saddened by the pain that was so evident in her son’s face and demeanor.
“Shelby? Are you interested in breakfast?”
Shelby emerged from her room fully dressed and worked her way around the kitchen to the table. “I heard him go upstairs. How is he doing?”
“Not well.” Miriam set a cup of coffee before her and proceeded to cook her an egg.
“Did you tell him about the state police?”
“I haven’t told him anything. We haven’t spoken at all.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“Not one word.”
“So you don’t know where he was?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll tell me what he wants to tell me, when he’s ready. But for now, I don’t think he wants to talk about it or about anything else.”
Grant sat in the hospital cafeteria, nursing a cup of coffee. He had stayed through the night at Cassie’s side, sleeping fitfully in the chair, waking over and over again only to fall back into exhausted, unsatisfying sleep. Nurses had come and gone throughout the night, and finally, this morning, one had asked him to leave the room while they checked Cassie’s vital signs and medical condition. Cassie was still asleep when he left her side.
He knew he should return to the sugarhouse; the weather was predicted to begin a warming trend today and the conditions would be perfect for heavy sap flow. But the truth was, he no longer cared what happened at the sugarhouse. That wasn’t fair to Larry; he knew that. But life wasn’t fair. God damn it, life wasn’t fair.
He stared at the scratches in the tabletop beyond his cup. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Just keep going on with his own self-serving life? Three people he knew were dead. They were dead for all the wrong reasons. And he had been a contributor to that. He was one of those wrong reasons. He had done all the wrong things, over and over. His friends had died horrible, violent deaths, and he had been responsible in his own way. He had failed so many people in his life, and now he could count Marcia and Teddy and probably Clay Beaumont among them. And he had failed them in ways that surpassed all the other mistakes he’d ever made.
Marcia.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he made no effort to hide them from the other people in the cafeteria. No doubt they were used to it anywa
y. People in this place dealt with tragedy every day. But not the way he was dealing with it right now. Not because they knew they had caused it. That they had been too paralyzed to stop it. That they hadn’t been able to apologize or to take the blame themselves and save the other person from paying the ultimate price for what had been done together. That they were just as guilty as those who had died—more so, even, than Teddy who had simply lost it when he realized how he had been betrayed. He, Grant, had contributed to the terrible despair that drove Teddy to take his own life. To the terror Marcia must have experienced when she realized what was about to happen. To the excruciating pain that so many people in his small town were dealing with today.
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