No Way Home

by MacDonald, Patricia

  Lillie replaced the book on the shelf and looked around the room. Everything in the room was neat and orderly. Was there no hidden side, Lillie wondered, to this child’s life? She went to the closet and looked through the pockets of her clothes. She opened every shoebox, and each contained a pair of shoes. She moved on to the dresser, lifting the neatly folded clothes, the coiled belts and organized jewelry drawer. She was giving the bottom drawer a perfunctory check when her hand fell on something lumpy under the pile of cotton sweaters. Lillie reached back and pulled it out. It was a paper bag with a mortar and pestle printed on the front with the Flood’s Pharmacy logo. Lillie opened the bag and pulled out a little stuffed dog with floppy ears, the kind of toy one might buy for a two-year-old. A little gold paper medallion still hung from the thread around its neck, but there was no price on it, and when Lillie shook the bag, no receipt fell out. She turned the toy over in her hand, examining it. Michele never bothered with stuffed animals, she thought. Maybe she bought it for some child she knew. Lillie sat back on her heels and tried to figure out for whom Michele might have bought a present. And then, as she was unsuccessfully reviewing a list of possible children, another idea occurred to her. Maybe the toy had been a present for Michele. Maybe a secret admirer had bought it for her. Maybe admiration had turned to hatred somewhere along the way.

  Lillie put the toy back in the bag. It’s too far-fetched, she told herself. You’re just reaching for something, anything, to make sense of a crime that was senseless. She looked at the pharmacy logo on the bag. There was probably some perfectly simple explanation for the toy stuffed into the drawer. Still, she thought, it wouldn’t hurt to try to find out.

  Lillie got herself ready to go out and then drove to the center of Felton. She parked on Main Street and crossed the square to Flood’s Pharmacy. A bell jingled softly as she opened the door and went in. The blond girl who worked for Bomar was behind the makeup counter, fixing her cottony hair with the tail of a comb and studying her face in one of the round tilted mirrors that sat on the counter. Without lifting her gaze from the mirror she asked, “Can I help you?”

  Lillie felt immediately self-conscious and hid the bag behind her back. This girl wasn’t going to remember who bought a stuffed toy on some unknown past date. There wasn’t even a receipt so that the date could be pinpointed.

  Lillie pretended to be looking at the greeting cards so that it would appear that she had a reason for being there. Having performed her duty, the girl at the counter began applying tester eyeshadows to her lids.

  Lillie walked over to the toy section and stared at the stuffed animals arranged there, as if they could speak and give her the answer she was seeking. Row upon row of round plastic eyes stared blankly out of furry faces. Go home, Lillie thought, this is a dumb idea.

  “Lillie, my dear, how are you?”

  Lillie jumped. She had not heard Bomar approaching on the soft soles of his Wallabees. His creased face shone above the plaid bow tie he wore. “Bomar.”

  “Is Kimberly helping you?” he asked sternly, casting a glance at the salesgirl, who suddenly busied herself by rearranging perfume bottles on the counter.

  “I was just looking,” Lillie said weakly.

  “Well, I guess congratulations are in order,” he said.

  Lillie looked at him, confused. “For what?”

  “Oh, there I go,” said Bomar, “spoiling the surprise.”

  “What surprise?” asked Lillie.

  “Well, I guess I have to tell you now,” the old man said cheerfully. “The Chamber of Commerce had their meeting this morning over at the Sizzler Steak House, and they voted to name your Grayson as one of the winners of the leadership awards that they’re giving out at the banquet next Friday.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” said Lillie. “He’ll be so thrilled.”

  “Well, he deserves it, you know. He’s a fine lad.”

  “Thank you, Bomar.”

  “Matter of fact, I nominated him,” the druggist said proudly.

  “That was right nice of you.”

  Bomar shrugged and rubbed his hands together. “Glad to do it,” he said. “Now, what can I get you, little lady?”

  Lillie hesitated, not wanting to spoil the good news about Grayson, but if anyone would know about the toy, she thought, it was Bomar Flood. She reached into the bag and pulled out the dog. She looked at it a minute and showed it to the druggist.

  “I know this is going to sound kind of crazy, Bomar, but humor me if you would.”

  “I’ll sure try,” he said.

  “I was going through Michele’s things and I found this in her drawer, still in the bag. Do you sell this kind? I don’t see one here.”

  Bomar squinted at the dog and nodded. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Sure.” Then he looked at her uneasily. “Did you want to return it?”

  “Oh, no,” said Lillie, “heavens no.” The idea of returning the toy seemed so ghoulish that it made her errand seem innocuous by comparison. More confidently she said, “No, I’m just trying to figure out where she got it. I mean, who she got it from. If it was a present.”

  Bomar looked at her sadly. “Lillie,” he said, “will you take an old man’s advice and not dwell on things like this? It’s not healthy.”

  “Bomar, I am not doing that. I am just trying to figure out if there was someone special in her life that we didn’t know about. Some boy who might have liked her. Maybe someone she got mad at her. That might have had a grudge against her.”

  The pharmacist suddenly understood her implication. “One of these kids?” he asked incredulously. “Oh, no.”

  “Somebody did it,” Lillie said angrily. “Why not one of these kids?”

  “Well, all right, wait a minute.” The druggist put his hands on his narrow waist and frowned down at the floor. “Well, she used to come by after school sometimes, like the other kids. With her girlfriends, usually. She didn’t have a boyfriend. I can tell you that right now.”

  “No, I know,” said Lillie.

  Bomar took the stuffed toy from her hands and looked at it. “I’ll be honest with you, Lillie. I don’t rightly remember who bought it.”

  Lillie sighed. “It was kind of a long shot,” she said.

  “I do recall though,” said Bomar, pointing a skinny finger at the toy’s head, “I had a ruckus in here one afternoon over these animals. They were teasing one of the kids. Tyler Ansley it was. One of the boys caught him admiring one of these, and they got on him something awful. I remember ‘cause it struck me odd, too. Tyler always acted so surly and tough. Anyway, he cursed the lot of them and I had to hustle him out of here before he started breakin’ things.” Bomar shook his head. “That poor boy. I hope he’s better off in military school. Although he’d be a misfit anywhere. Now I can’t remember if Michele was here that day or not. She might could have been. I just don’t know.”

  Lillie stared at the toy. Tyler Ansley. She suddenly remembered the baseball game on Founders Day. Michele had been so indignant that everyone was being unfair to Tyler.

  “Bomar,” she said slowly, “did you ever see them together? Michele and Tyler?”

  “Well,” he said, “maybe I saw them talking a few times.

  But he was real uncomfortable around girls. Tell you what, I think that she might have liked him a little bit. But I don’t think he was interested. I hate to say this about that boy, because his daddy is a friend of mine, but the thing in this drugstore that interested him the most was drugs. Not that he ever stole from me. Don’t get me wrong. But I kept my eyes open when he was around.”

  Bomar stopped talking long enough to notice the whiteness of Lillie’s face. “Now hold on,” he said. “Don’t you start thinking any such thing about Tyler. I’ve been around a long time and I’m a darn good judge of character. That boy wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s got his problems, but he’s not that kind of boy.”

  “Well, thank you, Bomar,” said Lillie. She suddenly felt a little light-headed. “I really apprec
iate your taking the time.”

  “I mean it now, Lillie. Don’t start thinking crazy things. Do you understand me?”

  “I do,” she said, clutching the bag and backing out toward the front door.

  “You take care now,” said Bomar. “And I’ll be seeing all of y’all at the banquet.”

  Lillie looked at him blankly. “The Chamber banquet. Grayson’s award.”

  “Oh, right,” she said. “I’ll see you…”

  “Friday,” Bomar said.

  “Friday.”

  The door jingled behind her as she hurried out to the street.

  After she left the drugstore, Lillie got into her car and began to drive. She drove aimlessly for over an hour, preoccupied with her thoughts. When a pickup truck honked at her, she realized that she was not paying sufficient attention to the road. Lillie looked around and got her bearings. She was not far from Crystal Lake. She needed a chance to stop, and think and collect her thoughts. She drove in the direction of the lake and pulled into the empty gravel parking lot of a tiny bait and tackle shop that was closed on weekdays until spring, then parked her car.

  Through the bare branches and the patchy bright foliage of the trees she could see a silvery sliver of the lake’s shimmering surface. It was a place Lillie had come to all her life when she had something important to think about. She and Brenda had played at its perimeter with rocks and frogs and twigs, and later they had walked around it discussing boys. She and Jordan had skinny-dipped there in the moonlight on the loveliest of summer nights. She had walked the edge alone, trying to decide if she should accept Pink’s proposal. She had sat under a tree there and prayed when she had to take Michele to Pittsburgh for surgery, feeling somehow that God hovered nearer to this lake than anywhere else in the county. Once she had come with Pink when he took Grayson fishing here.

  Getting out of the car, Lillie walked down the road past a hazy lavender and brown field that skirted the lake and through a thicket of trees to the water’s edge. She walked along the lakeside for a while, the water lapping gently near her as she bent over to pick up a stone and toss it into the smooth surface of the water. There was a motel on the other side of the lake, and a couple of trailers and cabins around its perimeter, but otherwise it was a quiet spot, a peaceful spot.

  Lillie felt anything but peaceful. She walked along until she came to a long wooden jetty. After walking out to the end of it, she sat down and dangled her feet over the end. The water was low and her feet did not reach it.

  She held the fur dog in her hand and gazed down at its plain, unthreatening face. Tyler Ansley, she thought. It couldn’t possibly be. He was a troubled boy. Everyone in town knew that. But a killer, no. It couldn’t be. She had known him all his life. He was young and confused and mad at the world. But not mean. Not vicious. It was just a rebellious phase he was in.

  And Royce Ansley was her friend. One of the finest men she knew. He could never raise a boy to be a killer. Then an unwelcome thought came into her head. They always said that preachers’ kids were the worst of the sinners. Maybe the same could be true of a sheriff’s son. Maybe Royce was searching for a killer that would turn out to be his own son.

  And then in the next moment, she had an even worse thought. Maybe he already knew. After all, hadn’t he taken the boy off to military school not two days after Michele’s death? No, she thought, it’s not possible.

  Lillie lay down on the jetty and felt a slight, lingering warmth from the wooden slats on her back. She covered her eyes with her hands but Royce’s and Tyler’s faces loomed before her. Maybe the boy had a violent streak, and Royce knew about it. It was well known that Tyler had problems with drugs and alcohol. Maybe he killed Michele and then confessed to his father and asked him to protect him.

  Lillie sat up again. No, she thought again. No, there’s still no reason for it. It doesn’t make sense. If it was sex she could understand it. But Michele had not been touched in that way. There was just no reason for it. And besides, she thought. If Royce had wanted to protect his son, then why had he insisted on Ronnie Lee Partin’s innocence? There he had a prime suspect he could shift the blame to, a ready-made scapegoat, and no one would even have blinked at it.

  Lillie picked up the toy again and shifted it impatiently in her hands. It was a monstrous thought. And what did she really have to base it on? A toy dog like a million others. The faulty memory of a nosy drugstore owner? And what if Michele did have a crush on Tyler Ansley, a sentiment that he did not even return? Did that make the boy a suspect for murder?

  Around the lake it was still light, but Lillie realized that she had been sitting there for a long time and that darkness was probably gathering in the town. She got to her feet, exhausted by the confusion of her thoughts, walked back down the jetty, and returned up the road to her car. As she suspected, the sky was turning a deep, violet blue. She threw the toy on the seat next to her and started for home.

  When she arrived, Pink was in the driveway, washing his car by the back-porch light. Lillie shivered at the sight of the buckets of cold, soapy water. “Isn’t it a little late for that?” she asked.

  “Well, we’ve got to be spruced up for next Friday,” said Pink. He gestured for Lillie to stand back as he ran the hose over the last of the soap on the hood.

  “What for?” Lillie asked.

  Pink turned off the water and, still holding the hose like a scepter, squinted at the streaks he could see in the lamplight. “I guess you haven’t heard,” he said proudly. “About our son.”

  “Oh, yes, the Chamber of Commerce Award. I did hear. I was at Bomar’s place today.”

  Pink picked up a rag and started to wipe off the roof. “How about that?”

  “I’m very proud of him,” said Lillie.

  “Proud of him?” said Pink, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you, he’s brought a lot of credit to us. He’s our hope for the future, Lillie.”

  “I know it,” Lillie said softly.

  Pink attacked a smudge on the windshield with a soft cloth. “I know this is crazy doing this at night, but I’ve got a lot else to do between now and Friday. I promised I’d get him a suit for the banquet. Really, when you think about it, a boy his age should have a suit.”

  Lillie looked down at the toy dog in her hands. “Yes, I guess so,” she said.

  “I think things are looking up for this family,” said Pink. “We just have to support our son’s endeavors and put the past behind us. I think this award is some kind of a sign.”

  “Maybe,” Lillie whispered.

  “What?” said Pink. “What have you got there? What were you doing over at Bomar’s today, anyway?”

  Lillie opened her mouth to speak but Pink bent down to get his Turtle Wax. From behind the front fender he called out to her, “Did you know Bomar was the one who nominated him?”

  Lillie knew he did not want to hear it. She knew before she said one word about it that he would be angry. He was so busy thinking about the good things he could find in life. Thinking about Grayson. And he was right, of course. There were things to be thankful for. Things to be happy about. But she said it anyway.

  “I found this in Michele’s room,” Lillie said slowly, “and I think she might have bought it for Tyler Ansley.”

  Pink straightened up, the wax in one hand, the cloth in the other. Despite the coolness of the evening, he was perspiring from his effort. “What did you say? What about Tyler Ansley?”

  She looked helplessly at him. What about him? she thought. A boy they had known all his life. The child of a friend. She tried to imagine herself explaining how he might have been the one. The one who killed Michele. It seemed absurd, even to her. But someone had killed Michele. It could have been Tyler.

  “I think Michele liked him,” Lillie said stubbornly.

  Pink stared at her. “What if she did?” he said warily. “So what?”

  “Pink,” Lillie said, “do you think it’s possible that he…?”

  “That he what?” P
ink asked impatiently.

  “That he was the one who killed her,” Lillie blurted out.

  “Now I’ve heard everything!” Pink shouted.

  She looked sharply up at him. Although he was only partially visible in the lamplight, she could see him looking fearfully at the stuffed animal, almost as if he was afraid it would come alive in her hands.

  “Pink,” she said, “what’s the matter? You look weird.”

  “I look weird,” he said angrily. He daubed the wax on his rag and began to apply it to the car in jerking motions.

  “That’s a good one. For chrissakes, you’re the one with the weird ideas.”

  She stared at him as he applied the wax to the car. “Pink,” she said slowly, “have you been thinking the same thing?”

  “Don’t be a fool, Lillie.”

  “I know you, Pink. You think I might be right.”

  Pink straightened up and shook the rag at her. “Did you hear one word I said to you about this family?” he demanded.

  “Pink,” she persisted, “this is not just going to go away.”

  Pink was shouting again. “Can’t you stop thinking about this for one minute,” he cried, “and show a little interest in your own family? Do I have to do it all? Can I ever get a little help from you?”

  The door opened and Grayson stepped out on the porch, a bottle of Coke in his hand. Lillie looked up at him guiltily. “What are you two yelling about?” he asked. Then he peered into the darkness at his parents. “Dad, are you washing the car at this hour?”

  Pink’s expression softened as he looked up at his boy. “I’m getting it ready for Friday,” he said. “I don’t want you showing up at the banquet in a dirty car. You’re one of the winners!”

  Chapter 15

  ALTHOUGH HOME COOKIN’ HAD BEEN HIRED to cater the Chamber of Commerce banquet and Lillie had been planning to serve, she told Brenda early in the week that she was not going to work.

  She had done a lot of thinking about Pink’s complaints. No matter what suspicions, what ugly thoughts, might plague her about Michele’s death, there was no excuse for neglecting her son or her husband. She thought about going to Royce and confronting him with her theory about Tyler, but when Pink asked her sarcastically what evidence she would hit him with, she realized what an impossible accusation it was to make with no proof of any kind. She still suspected that Pink harbored the same thoughts as she about the sheriff’s son, but he denied it completely. He told her he was trying to concentrate on the present, and on what remained of their life, and Lillie realized that she had to try to do the same.