Holly Grove Homecoming

by Carey, Carolynn

  He turned into the lot and pulled into one of the parking spaces beside the large plate glass window on the left side of the showroom. His uncle’s office had originally been just inside this door. No telling where it was now, he admitted to himself as he cut his motor and pulled his key out of the ignition.

  Trooper wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect from Tommy Underwood. They’d been best friends in high school, and they’d been planning to meet at Trooper’s house to shoot a few hoops in the backyard the day Trooper’s mom and dad were killed. Tommy had arrived at the house before Trooper got back from Millertown with the school’s banner.

  In the weeks that followed the murders, Trooper had shut everyone out of his life. The unbelievable pain of losing his parents, followed by the unremitting horror of knowing everyone in town considered his mother to be an adulteress and a pedophile, had resulted in Trooper turning inward.

  In an effort to protect himself, he’d dropped his friends and devoted his efforts to getting out of Holly Grove as fast as he possibly could. Looking back, he suspected that in his attempt to insulate himself from further pain, he’d hurt a lot of the people who loved him, including Tommy. He hoped his old friend wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.

  Even as he reached for the handle to open his car door, Trooper saw Tommy dashing out of the showroom. Trooper hurried to exit the car, and when he did, Tommy was there, pulling him into a bear hug.

  “Damnation, Trooper Myers, but it’s good to see you.” Tommy’s face, which showed little signs of aging, was slightly ruddy, as though his emotions ran high. “I wondered if you’d come to see me.” He dropped his hands and stepped away from the hug. His smile faded. “Or were you just wanting to see your uncle? Unfortunately, Joey’s not here right now. He’s gone to a conference in Arizona.”

  Trooper slapped Tommy on the biceps, just as they’d done when both of them were still more boys than men. “Hello, you old rascal. Actually, I was hoping to see both of you, but since Uncle Joey’s gone, you’ll have to do.”

  Tommy grinned. “Thanks, pal. You’re looking good—for an idiot who managed to get himself shot on the job.”

  Trooper grinned back. A chunk of ice that had lain dormant somewhere in his chest for all these years suddenly melted in the warmth of his old friend’s camaraderie. “Can you visit a while, or are you busy?”

  Tommy laughed. “Hey, the boss is out of town so what do you think? Want to go somewhere and have a cup of coffee?”

  “Sounds good, but you have to drive considering you have access to all these brand new vehicles.” Trooper waved his arm to encompass the dozens of cars and trucks sitting on his uncle’s lot.

  “Sure. Maybe I can sell you one of these fine automobiles to replace that rattletrap you’re driving.”

  “Watch it. My car’s just three years old, barely broken in.”

  “Yeah, but when did you start driving a little sissy car like that? You were always a truck man.”

  “Well, parking a big-ass truck in the city can get a little tricky sometimes.”

  “You always were a lousy driver anyway. Come on. I’ll show you a real vehicle and a real driver.” Grinning, Tommy led the way to a shiny red midsize pickup. “Now here’s the perfect truck for the sissy city dweller.” He unlocked the doors with his remote control and motioned for Trooper to get in on the passenger side. The interior temperature must have been a couple of hundred degrees, so Trooper left the door open until Tommy started the motor and turned on the air conditioner.

  Tommy turned to face him. “Let’s head out to Margo’s by the Lake, if that’s okay with you. I haven’t had lunch yet.”

  “You’re the driver. But what the hell is Margo’s by the Lake?”

  “A new place. It’s kind of upscale, but I can afford to buy you a cup of coffee there. And the nice thing is, it’s usually quiet this time of day. We can visit without a lot of interruptions.”

  “In that case, let’s go.” Trooper fastened his seat belt and settled back in the cushiony seat. He had to admit that he enjoyed being back in a truck again. There was something about sitting up higher that appealed to him and also brought back memories of the fun he’d had in his first pickup, the one his folks had bought him for a graduation present. For the first time in years, he could think of that pickup without feeling a stab of pain, which he took to be a good sign.

  After pulling out onto the highway, Tommy inquired about Myrna’s health, and then Trooper mentioned running into Tommy’s dad that morning.

  “Dad told me about talking to you,” Tommy said. “That’s why I was watching out for you. I was hoping you’d stop by.”

  Trooper was just as pleased to be making small talk for the time being. He was also enjoying being a passenger and free to look out the window at the passing scenery.

  After Tommy had driven a couple of miles down the main highway, he flipped on his right turn signal and began slowing for a turn onto Willowby Road.

  “So,” Trooper noted, “I assume by the route you’re taking that Margo Whoever built her restaurant out by Monterey Lake.”

  “Yep. That area has really built up in the last ten years. Condos, townhouses, rental cabins, you name it. There are some very rich folks who are moving into that part of the county, Trooper.”

  “Rich from doing what?”

  “From whatever it is that folks do in other parts of the country that earns them enough money to have a second house. Most of the places out near the lake are vacation homes, and they’re usually occupied this time of year. Apparently, despite our current heat wave, there are other places hotter than Holly Grove.”

  “With Hell being one of them, I suppose,” Trooper said, his tone dry.

  Tommy laughed. “I see you haven’t lost that crazy sense of humor.”

  “I guess not. So tell me about yourself, Tommy. What are you into besides selling cars?”

  Tommy had always been a wheeler-dealer, even when they were in high school, and obviously he hadn’t changed. He launched into a detailed description of the various real estate deals he was working on, along with a couple of local businesses he wanted to buy into. “I’m still paying child support,” he said, “but that will end when my youngest is eighteen, and then I’ll have a lot more disposable income. What about yourself? Are you into anything other than law enforcement?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Trooper admitted. He spotted a large development up ahead. “Is that one of the new places you were telling me about?”

  “Yeah. Those houses sell for a half to three quarters of a million at least. Some for upwards of two million, or so I’ve heard. So you can see why Margo’s by the Lake isn’t hurting for business.”

  The restaurant and lake came into view when they rounded the next curve. Trooper could barely believe his eyes. When he was a teenager, Willowby Road had led to a rickety old dock and a muddy ramp where local fishermen could put their boats into the water. Today the dock and ramp had been replaced by a fancy marina and by Margo’s place, a huge restaurant complete with walls of glass looking out onto decks that had been built over the water.

  “Wow, that’s quite a change from what I remember.”

  Tommy pulled into a spot under the shade of one of the oaks that ringed the parking lot. “It’s nice out here now. The restaurant does a pretty good business year round.”

  “It looks as though it’s doing a good business right now,” Trooper said, looking at the twenty or so vehicles parked in the lot.

  “Oh, this is nothing. Just a few stragglers left over from the lunch crowd. Let’s go.”

  Trooper followed Tommy across the lot and into the wonderfully cool restaurant. To his initial dismay, they were greeted by a hostess who was one of their old classmates. Norma Crowley had changed considerably since their high school days. She’d traded her glasses for contacts, turned her brown hair into blonde, and lost at least fifty pounds. But she was still as outgoing as always.

  “Trooper Myers. Well, I must
say it’s good to see you. I was just telling Missy Tyranski Pressly last night that you wouldn’t come back to Holly Grove without looking up Tommy, and I see you haven’t. It’s good to see you, Trooper.”

  She sounded sincere, and the last thing Trooper wanted was to snub the people of Holly Grove more than he had when he was a teenager and hadn’t understood what he was doing. So he asked Norma how she was getting along and inquired about Missy Tyranski who obviously had married her high school sweetheart Derrick Pressly.

  Tommy stood off to one side and let them visit for a few minutes before informing Norma that he hadn’t had lunch yet and was starving to death.

  Norma punched him on the arm for interrupting, but she also grabbed a couple of menus and led them to a table beside one of windows that had a view of the lake. Within seconds, their server hurried up to the table. Trooper accepted Tommy’s offer of a cup of coffee but passed on a sandwich, even though he had a feeling the food at Margo’s would be excellent. The service was certainly good, and the atmosphere was relaxing to the point that Trooper decided he didn’t want to spoil a fun afternoon by asking Tommy what he’d seen the day of the murders.

  Besides, he wouldn’t want Tommy trying to relive that day while they were out in public and could be interrupted at any time by the server or even by an old school friend.

  So Trooper leaned back, sipped his coffee, and mostly listened as Tommy filled him in on the past twenty years of his life and of the major happenings in Holly Grove.

  Tommy was just polishing off the last bite of his baked potato when his cell phone rang. “Blasted thing,” he muttered, then glanced at the caller ID before flipping the phone open. “Yeah? He’s there already? No, no, tell him to wait. I can be back in fifteen minutes or less. Get him a cup of coffee or something cold to drink and give him a booklet on the new line. See you in a few.” He slipped the phone back in his pocket and regarded Trooper with a grimace. “Sorry, pal. Work calls. I’ve got a customer in the showroom. You ready?”

  “Sure.” Trooper pushed his cup back and reached for his billfold.

  “My treat,” Tommy said. He threw some bills on the table and stood. “I’d better hurry. Don’t want this guy to get restless. He’s about ready for a new vehicle and I could use the sale.”

  “No problem.” Trooper followed Tommy to the truck and climbed in. “You got any plans for lunch tomorrow?”

  Tommy shot him a quick glance and his habitual smile faded, as though he could guess what Trooper wanted to discuss with him and wasn’t looking forward to it. “Sorry, pal, I’m booked for all day tomorrow. Business, you understand. In fact, I’m scheduled to work every day while your uncle is out of town.”

  Trooper nodded. “When will he be back, do you know?”

  “I’m not positive. I’ll give you a call.”

  “Okay,” Trooper said, then remained quiet on the trip back to the dealership so Tommy could concentrate on his driving. He was obviously in a hurry, so when he pulled onto the lot, Trooper quickly exited the truck and headed for his own vehicle. “See you later,” he called to Tommy, who had already started toward the showroom.

  “See you,” Tommy called back, tossing up a hand as he pulled the door open to go inside.

  Chapter 11

  Trooper felt at loose ends when he pulled out of the dealership lot and onto the main highway. He’d enjoyed his visit with Tommy, but the visit had stirred up feelings he hadn’t dealt with in a number of years.

  He’d purposely cut ties with the friends of his youth after he left Holly Grove, and he had assumed that whatever feelings they’d once shared would have been diluted by the passage of time. Now he was beginning to believe that those feelings had just lain dormant, waiting for some sort of interaction to spring to life again.

  He and Tommy had easily slipped back into the give-and-take relationship of their teen years. Back then, each had pretty much known what the other was thinking and feeling. Unfortunately, that camaraderie had ended the day Trooper’s parents had died and he decided no one could understand the depth of his despair. He still believed that no one could have shared his personal descent into Hell, but he now suspected that some of his friends would have preferred that he let them try.

  Sighing, he drove straight through town and turned onto Sugar Maple Drive. He really needed to make a plan, to at least set some goals as to who he wanted to talk with and what questions he wanted to pose to those people.

  He should go to an office supply store and buy some notebooks and folders, maybe take a look at some dividers or whatever supplies might help him keep his notes organized. Thing was, he wasn’t sure where to find an office supply store in town.

  Then Carly’s house came into view. What better person to ask for advice about an office supply store than a writer? Trooper’s mood immediately lightened, and a grin settled onto his face.

  He glanced toward the street in front of her house. Yep, her SUV was parked under the shade of a maple tree. He pulled in behind it and cut his engine.

  Three minutes later, he was on Carly’s front porch ringing her doorbell. He heard her footfalls coming down the stairs before it occurred to him that he might be interrupting her writing.

  “Oh well,” he muttered to himself. “Too late now.”

  He watched as Carly glanced at him through the front door’s sidelight. He grinned at her when she pulled the door open. “Hope I’m not interrupting your writing.”

  She smiled and stepped back to make room for him to join her in the hallway. “Frankly, I’m glad for the interruption. I tend not to take breaks like I should.” She rolled her shoulders as though to prove her words. “Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

  Carly’s house was blessedly cool. “Yeah, that’d be nice. It sure feels good in here.”

  “It’s not too cold?” She turned and started toward the back of the house, obviously expecting him to follow, which he did.

  “It’s not too cold for me. I had the air conditioner on in my car, but in this kind of heat, it doesn’t do a great job.”

  “I know what you mean.” Carly stepped into the kitchen and turned back to Trooper. “I can offer you a cola or a beer.”

  “I thought you didn’t like beer.”

  “I hate it, but I keep it in the fridge for my friends who prefer it.”

  “A glass of ice water would suit me.”

  “Sounds good to me too. Have a seat and I’ll get us each a glass.”

  She had nodded toward the table by the window, so Trooper took a seat there. He watched Carly get a couple of glasses out of a wall cabinet, fill them with ice, and then retrieve a pitcher of filtered water from the refrigerator. He enjoyed watching her move about in the kitchen. She was dressed today in a pair of cutoff jeans and a Disney World tee shirt with a decal on the front ballyhooing the resort’s twenty-fifth anniversary.

  “Were you there?” Trooper asked, nodding to the shirt when Carly joined him at the table.

  She frowned. “Where?”

  “At Disney World for the twenty-fifth anniversary.”

  Carly looked down at her front as though she’d forgotten what she was wearing, then laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. One of my cousins was, though, and she brought me this tee shirt.”

  Trooper nodded and took a long drink from his glass of water before setting it back on the table. “Did you have trouble getting to sleep this morning?”

  “Pretty much, yes,” Carly responded. “I’m not sure what time I finally dozed off, but I didn’t wake up until about ten. I’ve been writing most of the day. Did you take a look around outside your window?”

  “Yep. I found signs that someone had been out there, but nothing to tell me whether it was a male or female. Just some broken twigs on one of the shrubs.”

  “No footprints or anything like that?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Too bad. I wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing happens again tonight.”

  “Neither wo
uld I. That’s why I’m planning on going out early and laying in wait. If I have a nocturnal pest tonight, I want to know who it is.”

  Carly’s eyes widened. “I’d love to join you.”

  “What? No! That would be crazy. You don’t know how boring that type of stakeout can be.”

  “Maybe not, but I could sure use the experience. In the type of books I write, knowledge of the feelings a person experiences during a stakeout could be invaluable.”

  Trooper stared at her. She certainly looked serious, but it didn’t make a lot of sense to him. Writers were supposed to use their imaginations, weren’t they? “It would be hot and muggy, and there would be insects. Mosquitoes and gnats and probably some creepy crawlies too.”

  “Okay.” Carly shrugged. “I’ll wear long pants and a long-sleeved shirt and bug repellant.”

  “You’ll get pretty hot in all that.”

  “I can cool off after I get home. You can come back with me and cool off too.”

  Trooper sighed to himself. Obviously Carly wasn’t going to be discouraged. “Okay. If you’re sure you want to do this, I’ll meet you beside Aunt Myrna’s front porch about ten o’clock. It will be good and dark by then.”

  “Great. I’ll be there. I’ll wear dark clothing. Anything else I should do or know?”

  “No, not that I can think of. You’ll just have to be prepared to be very still and very quiet for a long time.”

  “Will we be sitting on the ground?”

  “Eh, yes, I suppose so. Why?”

  “I was thinking I should bring something to sit on—an old blanket maybe.”

  Trooper suspected Carly was thinking of the creepy crawlies he’d mentioned, but he couldn’t really blame her. “A blanket will be fine.”

  “Should I bring a thermos of coffee?”

  Trooper was tempted to tell her that this wasn’t going to be tea party, but at the same time, he was downright touched by her enthusiasm. Her eyes were sparkling as though she’d been offered a rare treat. “Coffee,” he repeated, biting back a smile. “Eh, no, I don’t think so. It might be awkward, you know, trying to pour coffee in the dark.”