Saving Allegheny Green

by Lori Wilde

  “Same as Tim.”

  “You mean…” Aunt Tessa placed a hand at her throat and pantomimed choking.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “No!” Sissy howled and lifted her head. Her nose was running. I reached in my pocket for a Kleenex and handed it to her but she ignored it and ran her forearm under her nose. Heaven forbid she would even take a tissue from me.

  I nodded. “Autoerotic asphyxiation.”

  She shook her head violently. “No. That’s impossible.”

  “I found his body, Sissy. He had one end of the rope tied around the bedpost and the other around his neck. He was naked.”

  “Rocky could not have hung himself,” Sissy ground out through gritted teeth.

  “But he did.”

  “God, you always have to be right, don’t you.”

  “No, Sissy…”

  “You’re dead wrong.” She was screaming. Her eyes flashed wild.

  “I was there. I know what I saw.”

  “All right then Miss Smart-ass. Do you remember that scar on Rocky’s neck?”

  I recalled the faded thin red scars that marked his larynx. “Yes.”

  “And he always wore his shirts unbuttoned or with the neck cut out?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “When he was a kid a horse ran him under a clothesline and almost decapitated him. He was in the hospital for a month and he developed a terrible fear of having anything around his neck. He doesn’t even like to be hugged. Once, when we were at a luau party and some woman tried to put a lei around his neck Rocky came completely unglued.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Would someone with that kind of fear experiment with autoerotic asphyxiation? I think not,” Sissy crowed.

  Stunned, I stared at her.

  “That’s right. Contrary to popular opinion, you don’t know everything.”

  Now that she reminded me I remembered times Sissy had started to hug Rocky around the neck but he’d twisted her arms away. I’d thought it was because he didn’t like showing her affection.

  “He didn’t hang himself,” Sissy insisted.

  I was confused. Nothing made sense. I fumbled for a chair and sat down. Aunt Tessa and I exchanged glances. She shook her head.

  If Rocky hadn’t accidentally taken his own life playing at autoerotic asphyxiation, how had he really died?

  “Sissy,” I whispered. “If Rocky didn’t accidentally kill himself, what does this mean?”

  Sissy stared me in the face. “I don’t know.”

  “Could he have been murdered?”

  She started to shake anew.

  “Did someone make it look like autoerotic asphyxiation so everyone would think it was an accident?” Conahegg had assumed exactly that. “Someone who didn’t know Rocky was terrified of having anything placed around his neck.”

  My sister whimpered and drew her knees to her chest.

  “Sissy, is Dooley Marchand involved?”

  “N…no,” she denied. “Rocky had made arrangements to pay Dooley.”

  “How was he planning on doing that?”

  She hugged herself and avoided my eye. I reached out, took her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me. “Sissy, what was Rocky involved in?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please, don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying. It’s just that…” She bit her bottom lip.

  “It’s just what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy.”

  Sissy jumped to her feet. “Back off, Ally. You don’t know what you’re dealing with?”

  “Do you?” I asked.

  But she’d already run from the kitchen, slamming the back door closed in my face.

  In the past, I would have let her go, smug in the knowledge that I was in control, that she needed me and would eventually come crawling back. But lately I’d been forced to take a hard look at myself and my part in allowing Sissy’s irresponsible behavior to continue. It wasn’t pretty.

  I couldn’t leave things unresolved. Sissy had been running from her problems for too long. Conahegg was right. It was time I stopped making excuses for her. Time we both faced up to our faults.

  Resolutely pulling open the back door, I followed her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “SISSY,” I CALLED. “Wait. Please, let’s talk.”

  My sister was stalking toward the dock. “Let me alone.”

  I hurried to catch up with her. “I can’t. It’s too important.

  You’ve got to tell me what’s going on. I know you’re in some kind of trouble….”

  She plopped down in a lawn chair and glowered at me darkly. “You don’t know anything.”

  “What’s Rocky got you tangled up in? You can tell me.”

  “Ha!”

  I sat in another chair beside her. “I’m here to help.”

  “Since when? My whole life you’ve been bossing me around. Nothing I do ever pleases you.”

  “It’s only because I care that I’m so hard on you.” I reached out to stroke her arm but she gave me a withering look and I backed off.

  She stared out at the river, not looking at me or speaking.

  “You’re right,” I said, unable to endure the silence. “You’re right. I am bossy.”

  “And overbearing.”

  “Not all the time.”

  A faint smile curled her lips adorned with black lipstick. I itched to pull a tissue from my pocket and wipe it away. “You have your good moments,” she conceded grudgingly.

  “Thank you.”

  “But you’ve got to stop trying to fix everything for me.”

  “Do I do that?”

  “Constantly. I mean I know I’m a screwup. But at least they’re my mistakes. I own them.”

  “I don’t get you.”

  “I know,” she said and, a single tear slid down her cheek. “That’s the whole problem. You’ve never understood me.”

  What could I say? She was right.

  “Why do you pick such rotten guys, Sissy? Why do you let men treat you so badly?”

  She shrugged and turned her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I guess,” she whispered in a small voice, “it’s because I feel like I don’t deserve better.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I snorted.

  “Don’t belittle my feelings. That’s something else you do.”

  I clamped my mouth shut. I was getting an unsavory view of myself.

  After a moment I asked, “Why do you feel you don’t deserve to be treated well? Why do you go out of your way to act wild? To invite trouble?”

  “I’m one of those crazy Greens,” she mumbled. “Don’t you know that?”

  I took her chin in my palm and forced her to look at me. “You are not crazy.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh yeah, tell that to the guys who tried to rape me when I was fifteen. They said a crazy girl like me needed to be taught a lesson. If a car hadn’t driven by when it did…”

  Her words detonated on the quiet river. A bomb. An explosion.

  “W…what did you say?” I stared at her, my heart breaking.

  “You heard me.” Her jaw clenched hard against my palm.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. Guilt stacked like firewood in my mind, knocking over my preconceived notions about my little sister.

  She barked out a harsh laugh. “Why? So I could hear ‘I told you so’?”

  “I would never have said that. Oh, Sissy, do you really think so little of me?”

  She jerked her head from my grasp. “I’d gone to a Metallica concert. You told me not to go. I went with three guys I barely knew. We were drinking and smoking pot. I had on a short skirt and a low-cut blouse. I figured you’d think it was my fault.”

  “Never, Sissy. Never would I think that.” The remorse was tearing me apart. My sister had needed me but she’d been too afraid of my co
ndemnation to come to me with the most serious thing in her life.

  “Really?” She was shaking, sobbing.

  I gathered her in my arms and held her tight. “I’m so sorry, baby. So very, very sorry.”

  Her tears were wet against my shoulder. She seemed so small, so vulnerable.

  We sat for the longest time, holding each other. Finally, Sissy pulled back. I handed her a Kleenex from my pocket and she wiped at her face, the mascara smearing, giving her raccoon eyes.

  “That’s a heavy secret to have carried for so long.”

  “Well,” she said. “I did tell Tim. Except for the being gay part, he was a great boyfriend.”

  “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me when it happened.”

  “I was ashamed to tell you, too. You’re Miss Perfect. You never do stupid things or get involved with the wrong people.”

  “What? Are you nuts? Of course I do. Remember Casey Yearby? My first boyfriend,” I said, trying to make her feel better.

  Sissy swiped a straggling tear away. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about him. Your tortured poet. He sat on the front porch, drank blackberry wine and recited odes to death. Didn’t he become an undertaker?”

  “Last I heard.”

  “I guess that career choice was inevitable.”

  “Or what about Thomas Lutten? The art historian. I dated him for a year.”

  “What a wimp,” Sissy laughed. “I swear if he said ‘Yes, Ally, whatever you want’ once, he said it a million times. Whatever happened to him?”

  “He married a prison guard from Gatesville.”

  “Now that’s a match made in dysfunctional Heaven.”

  We grinned at each other and I felt closer to my sister than I had in a very long time.

  “But Casey and Thomas weren’t really bad guys. They were spineless. You need a strong man, Ally. Someone you can’t push around.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said and thought of Conahegg.

  “That kind of head-to-head relationship would keep you on your toes.”

  “The fur would fly,” I agreed, still thinking of Conahegg.

  “But, oh, the sex would be fantastic!”

  Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.

  “Listen, Sissy,” I said, switching the topic off me and back to her. “You’ve got to talk to me. Tell me what was going on between you and Rocky. Was it drugs? We can get you into a rehab center. Is it money?”

  “You can’t fix the problem, Ally. That’s a hard thing for you to realize, I know, but I have to handle things on my own.”

  “Are you sure? I can—”

  “Shh,” she interrupted. “All I need for you to do is keep Denny for a few days.”

  “Done. Where are you going?”

  “I can’t tell you. At least not yet.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. Tell me.”

  “I thought we were trying to mend our relationship.”

  “We are but…”

  “Then you have to let me go.”

  She was right again. “All right. But if you get into trouble, please call. I’m here for you.”

  “I know, Ally. And that’s always been my crutch.”

  LATER THAT EVENING, after Sissy had waved and driven away on God knows what mission, I went into Cloverleaf to finish giving my statement to Conahegg.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about my conversation with Sissy. If I was going to have a man in my life, he’d have to be a strong one. But that didn’t mean it had to be Conahegg.

  “I’m here to see the sheriff,” I told the gum-popping, fire-engine redhead seated behind the glass partition separating the visitors from the rest of the building. I recognized her from high school, although she had been a few grades behind me. Mindy Sue Linkletter.

  “Name?” Mindy Sue was doodling something on a yellow legal pad. She simultaneously blew a bubble, popped it and quickly sucked the gum back into her wide pink mouth. It was official. The woman could write and chew gum at the same time.

  “Allegheny Green.”

  Her head came up and her pouty lips tilted in a smirk. “Are you any kin to the Greens that live over on Brazos River Road?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your aunt, she’s the kook who supposedly channels some dead cavewoman.”

  “That’s right.” I felt the old anger and humiliation welling up inside me. For the duration of my entire childhood I’d been forced to put up with the Mindy Sues of the world. I couldn’t walk through the school corridors without hearing whispers and jeers.

  “Your mom, she’s weird, too. Makes castles and trolls and dresses up like it’s sixteen century England?”

  Seventeenth century to be exact but I wasn’t about to correct Mindy Sue’s history. Wouldn’t want her to make use of it and end up a finalist on Jeopardy.

  “That would be my mother.” I clenched my fists and mentally told myself slapping Mindy Sue wasn’t worth spending a night in jail, but it was mighty tempting.

  “And your sister, she’s kinda trashy, isn’t she? Hangs out with the redneck rock and roll musician, Rockerfeller Hughes?” Mindy Sue chattered, “Boy, talk about a loser. And before that, she went out with that gay dude, Tim Kehaul. Guess she didn’t know how to keep a man happy since both those guys were found dead whipping the weasel.”

  “Should you be discussing ongoing investigations with the general public?” I asked her, proud that I had managed to keep my anger on a leash. As a child, I had failed in that endeavor many times. Once, I had even gotten a black eye when at age ten, I’d tussled with a boy twice my size because he had called my family crazy.

  “Uh…” That took her aback.

  “When I have my talk with Sheriff Conahegg, I think I’ll mention to him he might want to do something about confidentiality leaks in his department.”

  She paled visibly. “Er…please, don’t say anything to the sheriff. I was only joking. I didn’t mean anything by it. Your family gives local color to Cloverleaf.” She was talking fast, and sweat actually broke out on her forehead. Obviously, the woman was terrified of Conahegg.

  “Well…I don’t know. It’s really not very nice of you to put people down.”

  “I wasn’t putting you down. God, I swear on a stack of Bibles I was only joking.” Mindy Sue gulped and she must have swallowed her gum because she dissolved into a minor coughing fit.

  I could understand her reaction. Conahegg was an imposing man and I had no doubt he would probably fire her if he knew how she’d spoken to me.

  “Please,” she whispered after the coughing subsided. “Don’t say anything to the sheriff.”

  “Well…” I let her suffer.

  “He is really strict. I need this job. I’m a single mom. I’ve got two kids to support.” Mindy Sue squirmed like a worm on a three-pronged fishing hook.

  “Tell you what, you keep your mouth shut about my family and I’ll keep my mouth shut about what a total blabbermouth you are.”

  “Oh, right. Sure. Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

  “By the way, are you going to tell Conahegg I’m here? He’s expecting me.”

  “Just a sec.” She held up one dragon-red faux fingernail and punched in some numbers on the telephone intercom. “Sheriff Conahegg?” Her voice had gone from brassy bitch to timid mouse. “There’s a Miss Allegheny Green here to see you.”

  She replaced the receiver and gestured toward the benches out front. “Have a seat, he’ll be with you in a moment.”

  “All right.”

  “Oh and thanks again. I really appreciate you keeping quiet.”

  I took a seat and thumbed through a decade-old copy of Field and Stream. I was anxious about seeing Conahegg again. If only I could stop picturing him naked.

  “May I help you, Miss Green?”

  I jerked around to find Conahegg standing before me, a blank expression on his face. He acted as if he didn’t even know me.

  “Uh…I’m here to give my statement.” I stared into flint-gray eyes. He didn’t e
ven blink. “Like you told me to.”

  “Yes. Good of you to come down.”

  He sounded formal, official. All cop. What was going on? Where was that flirtatious teasing? Had I done something to offend him?

  Stop obsessing Ally.

  But dammit. Why couldn’t I take my eyes off those firm, hard lips. Why did I care whether he was friendly or aloof? No skin off my teeth. Right?

  “Let’s go into my office.”

  Oh yeah. As if I needed to be in a closed room with Conahegg. Don’t ask me why I had the hots for him. I honestly couldn’t tell you. I never considered myself a particularly sexual woman. I’m all for holding hands and sharing meaningful glances but I’ve found the actual sex act isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. At least not with the men of my past experience. Something told me, however, that sex with Conahegg would be quite different.

  “Have a seat.” He ushered me inside his office.

  Why did I feel like a kindergartner sent to face the school principal?

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No thanks. But it’s nice of you to ask.” I smiled engagingly, hoping to elicit a similar response. I was going nuts here. There was definitely a cool breeze blowing off him and I was desperate to find out why.

  Conahegg didn’t smile. His chin took on a bulldog set. His feet were placed firmly on the floor, his spine planted straight against the back of the chair, palms splayed flat across the top of the desk.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you acting so weird?”

  He cleared his throat, met my gaze like a head-on collision. “May I be frank with you?”

  My stomach churned. “By all means.”

  “It’s recently been brought to my attention by concerned citizens that my physical attraction to you is unprofessional.”

  “Excuse me?” I blinked.

  “After careful consideration, I realize that perhaps our er…friendship…has been clouding my judgment in regards to the ongoing investigations.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “It’s not my intention to upset you,” he said mildly.

  The paradox was I’d spent my whole life kowtowing to Cloverleaf’s gossipmongers, trying desperately to redeem my family’s name. I strove to be a good girl, do the right thing, to fit in. Normally, I would be the first to drop any liaison that might get my name strung on the local grapevine, but I couldn’t believe that Conahegg was letting the nosy neighbors tell him what to do.