by Teresa Hill
Stephen's mouth settled into a tight line. She might have forgiven him. He might have had a fighting chance if he hadn't made love to her this morning.
He closed his eyes and looked toward her house yet again, remembering that she was okay right now. He had round-the-clock security on her house, something he should have done the minute she showed up there.
Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? He should have done a better job of looking out for her sister fifteen years ago, and he should have insisted on knowing exactly what his brother and his father had done to her.
He should have called them on that or a dozen other suspicious things over the years instead of looking the other way and keeping his distance from them and wishing they were anything except what they were—his family. He'd never quite figured out how to sever those ties. He'd made himself be content with compromise after compromise where they were concerned, all in the name of preserving the illusion that the Whittakers were one, big, happy family, or at least a family who could tolerate each other.
He should have stopped trying to cover for them and trying to shield his mother from the things they did. His mother made her choice years ago, and he honestly didn't think his sister-in-law Renee had any illusions left about Rich at all. He'd always lived right on the edge, somehow had always gotten away with things. His drinking had gotten worse recently, Stephen had heard, and the reckless streak had always been there. But even it was more pronounced of late. Still, Rich also had two beautiful, innocent little girls, and Stephen would hate to see them hurt.
The girls and his mother and his brother's wife. He had hoped to shield them from some of this. He'd hoped there was nothing to his suspicions, that all Allie would find while she was here were a lot of ugly rumors. If that's all it had been, he would have tried to keep the whole thing quiet for the sake of the women in his family.
But it wasn't just rumors. He was convinced of that now. And now he was going to pay for all the little compromises he'd made his whole life.
To have preserved any chance at forgiveness, he should have told Allie everything this morning, or last night when he'd brought her back here and wanted her so badly he ached with it.
He might have another twenty-four hours with her, and he wasn't above using what little time he had to try to bind her to him even more completely, to say to her all the things she wouldn't listen to later, when she knew everything.
But even now he doubted it would be enough.
And with that, he snuffed out his cigarette and went to ambush the one man, aside from his father, that Stephen thought could tell him what happened to Megan fifteen years ago. His brother.
* * *
Allie had to do something. She couldn't just sit here and think about Megan and her so-called accident, Stephen and all his secrets, Casey and all of his. And of all the thoughts racing through her head, it was Casey she was most worried about at the moment.
Megan, she couldn't help anymore. Stephen was a grown man and no doubt could take care of himself, but Casey was just a boy, forced by circumstances unknown to her to seek shelter in her attic. He must have been so desperate to break in and stay here, even though Allie was living here. And she hated that he hadn't trusted her enough to tell her what was wrong.
She wanted to go out and look for him, but she didn't have a clue where to start, and she still hoped he might come back. Allie worried, too, that once again in her life, she might have come to a decision too late. This time about the shelter.
It was a good idea. She knew it deep in her heart, and if she'd had any doubts, Casey had convinced her. He needed the shelter now. She had to hope that if the shelter was here, he'd be here, too, safe and sound. She truly thought she could make a difference with him.
But she wasn't ready. She didn't think she could push forward fast enough with her plans now. No matter what she found out about Megan or what happened between her and Stephen, she had to get to work on the shelter. She never wanted another runaway living in a barn or an attic in Dublin, Kentucky.
Determined to stay too busy to think, Allie looked for her next move. She had to start talking to people, to understand this neighborhood. Could they be as opposed to the shelter as she'd been led to believe? And who would know?
Allie finally decided Carolyn Simms was her most obvious choice. She called and invited her over for coffee.
While she waited for Carolyn to arrive, nervous energy propelled her up the stairs toward the bedrooms. She'd hated admitting to Stephen that she hadn't even set foot inside any of the bedrooms.
She found that even in the bright light of day she was still apprehensive, but she charged up the stairs, anyway, and pushed open the door of her own room. Allie found it just as she remembered, as if all her things were waiting eerily for the day she finally came home.
Somehow she'd known it would look just like this.
She could imagine her father keeping the door firmly closed, trying not to even look at it as he walked past. She could imagine every now and then his resolve slipping, and that he made his way inside, sitting on her bed surrounded by all her things, feeling every bit as miserable as she did when she'd done the exact same thing after Megan left.
And she simply couldn't believe the things she heard her mother say to her father had been true. He hadn't wanted Megan gone.
Allie carefully explored the room. There were no hints of misery to come, no hints of impending disaster. It was just a room—a little girl's room, and that little girl was gone. Allie couldn't bring her back, couldn't get back the years she'd lost. All she could do was go forward from here.
She did, moving ruthlessly through her old room, stripping it of nearly all her possessions. She didn't ever want to walk back in here and find it the way she'd left it the night she and her mother ran away. She sorted things into piles the kitten explored with glee, finding a very few things she wanted to keep. There were hair ribbons and bows, books she'd treasured as a child, dolls, old clothes, a half-finished math assignment she'd never turned in, and a photograph of a boy she had a crush on in third grade.
Allie wasn't nearly done when she heard a knock at the front door. Carolyn and her daughter, Missy, had arrived, bringing her Carolyn's mother's best wishes along with a chicken casserole.
Allie put the casserole away and served drinks. They all went upstairs to Allie's old room, and Missy was content to fuss over the kitten, the old dolls, and the pile of hair ribbons and bows.
"Do you remember when all it took to make you that happy was a few hair ribbons?" Carolyn said.
"No. I don't." Allie forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, Allie. I knew this would be difficult for you."
"It is, but I'm dealing with it."
"And I don't want to add to your troubles, but I thought I should warn you... One of my parents' neighbors works at town hall. She told my parents you're thinking of turning the house into a runaway shelter?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Allie. They're not happy at all."
"That bad?" Allie said.
Carolyn nodded. "Don't get me wrong. I think a shelter's a wonderful idea. I'm sure most of these people would agree. But not here."
"Stephen said the same thing."
"I heard he's staying at his parents' house while they're away." Carolyn wandered over to the window and looked out.
"Yes."
"I also heard you've been seeing him."
Allie fought the rush of hot color into her cheeks. She'd certainly done more than see him, and she didn't want to talk about him. Not now. She settled for adding a vague, "He's been... helpful."
"And still as gorgeous as ever, I assume."
Hating herself for it, but curious all the same, Allie realized she knew next to nothing about Stephen's social life. She'd assumed there wasn't a woman in his life at the moment, no one important at least. But suddenly, it seemed a big assumption to make. Could this possibly get any worse, she wondered?
"Do you know if Stephen's... seeing
anyone?"
"Not that I've heard. Of course, he spends most of his time in Lexington. I'm not sure if I'd know if he was seeing someone." Carolyn stared at her, then said, "I always thought he was a nice man. Amazing, coming from that family."
"Really? I don't remember that much about the others."
"His mother's very nice, although I can't understand how she puts up with Stephen's brother or his father. The judge, as he likes everyone to call him, always acted like he was so superior to everyone else, and Rich..."
"What about Rich?"
"He can be such a jerk. Like the state is a monarchy, and he's king."
"Oh?"
Carolyn nodded. "It's bound to catch up to him someday. Politicians are getting caught in all sorts of things these days. I'm sure he'll get his soon enough."
"What's Rich done?"
"Oh, I don't know anything specific. Not lately. We used to end up at the same parties when I was at UK. He always liked to drink a bit too much, and he tends to get nasty when he does," Carolyn said. "But enough about Rich. We were talking about Stephen, and I've always liked him."
Allie held her tongue.
Carolyn had a speculative look in her eyes. "Someone I know swears she saw Stephen last night dancing very slowly and very close to a woman who sounded a lot like you."
Heat burned through Allie's cheeks yet again.
"Wow," Carolyn said, looking genuinely pleased and much too interested.
So much for denying it all. Still, Allie tried.
"It's nothing, really. He's been... Well, it's been difficult to be here, and he's been... kind," she settled for saying. At many points along the way, he had been kind, and she'd been a fool. She'd fallen for his whole let-me-help-you act.
"I can understand how being here would throw you. It's so odd for me to walk inside after all these years." Carolyn took one last look around the room. "It brings back so many memories of Megan. She was like the big sister I never had."
"To me, too," Allie said. "She's like a phantom. My sister, and yet I hardly remember the time when she was actually with me."
"I forgot how little you were when all of this happened." Carolyn sighed. "I wish things had turned out differently."
"Me, too," Allie said. "That's what gave me the idea for the shelter. Maybe if there'd been something like that where Megan was, someone might have helped her. I keep thinking that she shouldn't have died. No one her age should die."
"No," Carolyn agreed. "They shouldn't."
"Your parents are really upset?"
"Everyone in the neighborhood, I'm afraid." Carolyn frowned. "It's all people are talking about. And I've heard the wildest stories—about vandalism, robberies, assaults—that we'd be just asking for trouble having those kids living here."
"But... they're just kids."
"Troubled kids."
"Which means they need help even more," Allie insisted.
"I know, and I admire you for what you want to do."
"It's more than that. I think it's what I was meant to do," Allie explained, thinking that Carolyn Simms couldn't possibly understand this part. "You have a husband and your children, your family. All of those people in your life, and I... I've just been drifting along, never really sure about anything in my life. And nothing felt right except this. There are kids who need this."
"I know, Allie."
"And I can help them. I think I can identify with them."
Even if the only time she'd ever run away from home, she'd done so with her mother and not by her own choice, Allie knew about feeling isolated and powerless, thinking nothing was ever going to get better and not being able to trust anyone. She'd been there, in that awful state, and so many times she'd wished she could just walk away and leave everything her life had become behind her. Start over. Make everything right.
Surely that was what the urge to run away was all about. Leaving all the problems behind.
Allie knew it didn't work that way. She knew you couldn't outrun your problems. She would be speaking from experience.
"I have to do this," she said.
"Allie, I want to believe that. I do. And maybe it will work. But not here. I can't see you ever getting permission to turn this house into a shelter," Carolyn said. "In fact, I don't know if you realize it or not, but two of the town zoning board members live right down the road from you. They've been telling everyone in the neighborhood not to worry. That they will never vote to allow anything like a shelter here, and they can't imagine the other board members ever being willing to, either. In fact, they're sure it's not even needed here. That it's much more suited to a big town, like Lexington."
Allie closed her eyes and felt like she'd just had the wind knocked out of her.
"I'm sorry," Carolyn said. "Obviously, it means a lot to you."
"I didn't know I had zoning board members for neighbors." She fought off a sense of despair. It was one thing to try to sway people to your point of view. Another to hit people where they lived. They'd already decided against it, and she hadn't so much as filed an application yet.
Maybe the situation was every bit as bleak as Stephen had painted it. Maybe he was right once again. Allie groaned at the thought. Eventually he had to be wrong about something, and she'd counted on it being the shelter. That in the end, she could make it work.
"If you think of some other way, I'd like to help," Carolyn suggested. "I'd love to do something in Megan's memory. I've really missed her. I'd do anything I could to help you, Allie."
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
Carolyn said she had to be going. She rounded up Missy, who was thrilled to be taking home three new hair ribbons and a bright pink bow, and they headed for the door.
"You know, there is one more thing..." Allie began, stopping them on the porch. "About Megan."
"Anything."
She took a breath and said, "I was wondering if you knew.... Why did she run away?"
"Oh, Allie." Carolyn looked devastated. "I'm sorry, I don't know. There were rumors, of course. All sorts of rumors. But I never knew anything for sure. I don't think anyone did, except for your mother and father and Megan, maybe Stephen."
Stephen? "Because he drove her out of town that day?"
"Well, there's that, of course." Carolyn nodded. "But I was thinking of the baby."
"The baby?" Allie said blankly.
"I wasn't sure if you knew." Carolyn hesitated. "Or if I should even bring it up, because it sounds like you and Stephen are... interested in each other, and I'd hate for old gossip to mess that up. I want you to know, I never believed it was Stephen's baby she was carrying."
Stephen's baby? Allie couldn't say a word.
"Oh, Lord, I'm sorry," Carolyn said. "I can tell I've upset you, and honestly, that's the last thing I wanted to do. Megan always had a terrible crush on Stephen, and a lot of people swore it was his baby she was carrying when she left. But I always thought the two of them were just good friends."
Allie felt sick.
"She was pregnant?" Allie asked. "You're sure?"
Carolyn looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I just thought your mother would have told you or maybe that Megan did. I don't even know if that part was true. She looked different that summer. Quiet. Worried. Pale. I think she threw up at school one morning, but honestly that was probably all it took to start the rumor that she was pregnant."
"And people thought it was Stephen's baby."
Carolyn nodded. "Especially after he helped her get away. There was even some wild talk about him taking her off somewhere and getting rid of her. But all of that was nonsense. I could never believe Stephen would hurt her. They were friends. In fact, I think the only reason people speculated that the baby was his was because they never saw Megan with anyone else."
"Nobody?"
"Not that I remember," Carolyn said. "I'm sorry. Stephen didn't tell you any of this?"
"No."
Allie closed her eyes, her stomach churning. She'd slept with him. He'd b
een charming and kind and supportive, and she'd fallen for him, even though she'd known better. All along, she'd known. And he hadn't said a word about her sister carrying his baby.
"I can't believe this." Allie had to stop to breathe. "I can't believe he'd take Megan to Tennessee and just leave her there when she was carrying his child."
"Allie, this is just old gossip. Megan never said a word to me."
"I have to find out," Allie said, turning to look through the trees to the roof of Stephen's house.
"Ask him," Carolyn said. "If there's anyone left in town who should know, it's him."
Allie nodded. "I will."
She doubted she'd believe anything he had to say, but she would ask.
Chapter 14
She refused to think about Stephen at all. She couldn't. For now, she was thinking of this as simply one more clue about what might have happened to her sister. So, if Megan had been pregnant, it could explain the tension between Megan and their parents. It could explain her running away. But it didn't explain her staying away when she was pregnant and all alone.
Allie ran the numbers in her head. Megan ran away in September. If she ran away because she already knew she was pregnant and their parents reacted badly, she must have been two or three months along, couldn't have been more than four, maybe five. Because no one seemed sure she was pregnant, so she must not have been far enough along that it was obvious. She died in February, which meant she had to be close to giving birth, if she hadn't already at the time of her death.
Allie called Greg Malone first, to ask him to find out if Megan had been pregnant when she died.
"There's no mention of it in the autopsy report, Allie."
"You checked? Did you hear something about her being pregnant?"
"The questions came up after I got here. You hadn't said anything about the possibility of your sister being pregnant, but I found out there were two runaway girls in Macon that winter. One of them was pregnant. I'd ask around town if anyone remembered a runaway, and people would ask if I meant the pregnant one, or the other one. So I checked," he explained. "I would have said something to you, but I assumed that if you'd known, you would have told me. Besides, I had the autopsy report in front of me. It was simple enough to check. She wasn't pregnant."