Shadow Valley

by Kate Sherwood

  Megan froze. She wanted to run away, or at least hide her face, but instead she stood there, staring at the magazine rack. Staring at her face, superimposed on an image of her car being dragged out of the watery ditch. The headline read, “Governor’s Mistress Doesn’t Just Wreck Homes.”

  One of the women still looked undecided, but the other one had obviously noticed Megan’s reaction. She stepped a little closer and said, “If I was his wife, your face would look just as bad as your car.”

  Megan wanted to fight back, but she really had nothing to say. She turned and focused on cashier. Go faster, she willed. Get me out of here.

  But apparently the cashier wasn’t too good at receiving telepathic messages. And she also didn’t seem too good at running items through a scanner. Megan curled her fingers tight around the handle of her shopping cart, resisting the urge to start grabbing items and pushing them under the red beam herself. She stared down into her cart and tried not to let her imagination make things worse. Yes, two women were staring at her, but most people in the store had better things to do with their time. They hadn’t even noticed this little drama.

  “How do you look at yourself in the mirror?” The woman was standing closer now, leaning in, and for the first time Megan wondered whether this was going to get physical. It seemed absurd, but the woman was apparently enraged.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan said. “But could you please back up? I don’t want you standing so close to me.”

  “Why, because I’m not a married man?” The woman’s voice was loud now and other shoppers were starting to pay attention. Megan didn’t respond, and the woman muttered “Fucking whore,” but she took a half step back.

  But now her friend was in on the act. “Why haven’t you been fired yet? Why haven’t you quit? Don’t you have any decency?”

  “Look, ladies.” Megan knew it was a mistake. She needed to rise above the fray, take the high road, turn the other cheek. She needed to get the hell out of Walmart. But she also needed all the items in her cart. And maybe she needed something more significant as well. “I’m not proud of what I did. I made a mistake. Several years ago.” She remembered Anna’s words of defense. “I think everyone makes mistakes, right? But most people don’t get their mistakes splashed all over the internet.”

  “A mistake? Like, ‘Ooh, I slipped and fell into bed with this married man?’”

  Megan cocked her head. “That’s the response when someone says an affair was an accident. If I’d said it was an accident, you’d say, ‘ooh, you slipped?” But it doesn’t even make sense when I said it was a mistake.”

  “Don’t get snippy with me, you whore!”

  And that was when security arrived. It was just as well, because the other women seemed determined to escalate the situation, and Megan had a feeling she was about to do something she’d regret. At least in the long-term. Short-term, she might enjoy it quite a bit.

  “Excuse me, miss?” the security guard said. “We can help you at the customer service counter. If you’ll follow me?”

  Megan wanted to protest. She wanted to point out that she’d been minding her own business, that the other woman had been the one yelling and swearing. Mostly, she wanted to point out that she knew she’d done something wrong, but it had been three damned years ago and it wasn’t like she’d killed somebody. But she didn’t do any of those things. She just followed the security guard to the other counter, and tried to ignore the “Whore” that followed her as she left.

  The only victory she could claim was that she kept her head high as her purchases were bagged, and she didn’t cry, even after she’d made it to the safety of her car. Small comfort, but it was something. She drove around aimlessly for a while before she had the courage to go into the dry cleaner’s, but the man there just took her soiled clothes, clucked his disapproval and refused to make any promises. He seemed a little confused by the enthusiasm with which she greeted his disinterest.

  By late afternoon she was headed back to Shadow Valley. She was set up with clothes and snacks for at least a week, and most importantly, she had a new cell and laptop. Her credit card bill was going to be heart-stopping, but surely insurance would cover most of it.

  She had new belongings to go with her fresh start. She’d left the affair behind years ago, and that was where she was going to keep it, even if the rest of the world seemed obsessed with dragging it into the present day. An easier resolution to make than to keep, but she would manage.

  She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost missed it. She caught sight of the dented guardrail, and thought, someone was lucky—if that had given way… And then she realized that she was the lucky one. That had been her car, coming out of the corner a little too fast, hitting the patch of late-season ice, and skidding toward the precipice. The guardrail had saved her from plunging to certain death, but had sent her careening across the road into the flooded ditch on the other side. She could remember it all in flashes, the skid, the slide, the explosion that she now understood as the air bag deployment. And then the water, and being unable to escape. She slowed down and then pulled over. She could see the churned up soil behind her, the mess probably left by the tow truck that had hauled her car free, rather than from the accident itself.

  She sat there, alone, until the shaking stopped. Not a single car had driven by while she’d been parked, and she wondered what strange fate had brought her rescuer by at just the right time. Would someone else have been quick and decisive enough to see the problem and know what to do?

  Joe Cody had saved her life. Perhaps that made up for the one he had taken. Then she wondered whether he’d taken more than one, and she needed to sit there for a little bit longer.

  When she pulled back onto the road she was no closer to understanding, but at least she was back under control on the surface.

  It took a while to move all of her new possessions into the motel room and to get them organized. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be in town, really. Maybe she should stay away long enough to get her resume put together and sent out, although she had no idea who she’d want to send it to. But she still had a little pride left. She had been given a job and she would do it. She would get a handle on the problems between the forces, she would make a recommendation to the governor; she would be a professional.

  She ate cold cereal for dinner and then looked at her new phone. Damn it, she didn’t want to, but she didn’t really have an excuse, not anymore. She could send an email to the office, but this conversation she needed to have over the telephone, if not in person.

  She dialed the number, choking back the hope that she’d just get the answering machine, and tried to control her disappointment when the phone was picked up. “Hello?” Was it Megan’s imagination, or did her mother sound tentative, almost frail?

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me.”

  “Oh, hello, Megan. Just one second while I get your dad.” It wasn’t exactly an effusive greeting, but it wasn’t far off the typical, really. Megan took a couple deep breaths, and waited.

  “Slugger?”

  “Hi, Daddy.” And there it was, the tremor in her voice that she’d been hoping to hide. She should have known better; talking to her parents always turned her into a little girl, and as a little girl, she definitely wanted to cry. She refused to let herself think about the women in the Walmart, or the destroyed guardrail next to the ice-cold water.

  “Hey, there.” Her father sounded as though he was trying to decide how to play this. “How’re things? Any better, now that you’re out of the city?”

  “Oh, yeah. Much better.” That was true, mostly, and she tried to focus on the positive. “I don’t think anybody really knows where I am, so I’m just, you know…getting down to work.”

  “Well, that’s good, Slugger. No more trouble from those reporters?”

  “No. No calls lately.” Of course, Me
gan had been without a cell phone for almost twenty-four hours, and she’d changed her number when she got the new phone. So if the overly aggressive journalists hadn’t given up, she really had no way of knowing. “But, um…I was in a little car accident. Nothing huge.” Didn’t almost die, no—that wasn’t something her parents needed to hear about, not after all the rest of the worry she’d caused them lately. “Hit some ice in one of the mountain passes on the way up, and went off the road into a ditch. I’m fine, but I just wanted you to know. If it gets reported or something, don’t worry.” In case her parents went to a Walmart, or a grocery store. Or went online.

  “You’re sure you’re fine? Have you been to a doctor? Any headaches or soreness in your neck?”

  “I’m fine. I called my doctor, and everything’s fine.” It was only a little lie, and it would make everything so much easier.

  “You called? What the hell kind of doctor can make a diagnosis over the phone?”

  “You’re trying to make a diagnosis over the phone, and you’re not a doctor at all.” This felt like more familiar ground, squabbling over her health instead of carefully not mentioning her sexual indiscretions. “I’m fine, Daddy. Really.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to take some time off? Your mother and I would love to have you back home for a while.”

  Megan wondered if her mother was still on the line. If she’d heard the invitation, she certainly didn’t jump in to second it. And if she wasn’t on the line, that was a clear message on its own. “I’m fine!” Megan tried to sound convincing. “I’m over the worst of it, for sure. And it’s actually really interesting up here—I might be calling you for some advice on FBI stuff, soon.”

  “I’m always happy to help, you know that. Carson’s doing well?”

  “I don’t think he’d have much luck passing the Bureau physical anymore, but he seems happy.”

  “Good. He was burned out when he left. It’s nice to think of him up there, relaxing a little.”

  “And he can think of his old partner, still down in the salt mines. Have you heard about the promotion yet? You know Mom would love to get back to D.C.”

  The pause lasted just a little too long. “I don’t think it’s going to happen, Slugger.”

  It took a moment for Megan to catch on. “Because of me. Because I made a mistake, you don’t get the promotion you deserve.”

  “It wouldn’t look good, Megan. At this level, these jobs are pretty political. The timing’s just not right on this one. Besides, I’m not sure you’re right about your mother. She’s practically running the town, down here. I’m not sure she’d be happy back in the big city.”

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

  “Don’t be. You did something stupid, but you admitted it, and you moved on. I’m proud of you for that. I love my job. I don’t need a promotion. Really, Megan. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  Megan needed to get the hell off the phone. Tears streamed down her cheeks, which was fine, but she didn’t think she’d be able to control her voice for much longer. “I should go, Daddy. I’m meeting some people for dinner, so I should get ready.” She wondered whether her father had been lying to make her feel better, just as she was lying for him.

  He paused as if he was wondering the same thing, but finally he said, “Okay. Take care of yourself. I’m glad things are looking up out there, but remember, we’re always happy to have you here, if you need a break.”

  “Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Slugger.”

  Megan hung up and resisted the urge to throw the brand-new phone across the room. It wasn’t fair, none of it. Her father had worked hard his whole life, and he only had a few more years left before retirement. She’d screwed up, and he was paying for it. And there was nothing she could do about it. She felt the old recklessness that she thought she’d gotten under control, the same instinct that had landed her in this mess to begin with. She should do something drastic. Something dramatic. If people were so insistent on punishing her for something, she might as well make it worthwhile.

  But she had no idea what to do. If a caper had presented itself, she would have acted on it, she was pretty sure, but no thoughts came, so she had another bowl of cereal and then went to bed early. It was the best she could do.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, Megan woke up so stiff she could hardly move. Maybe she should have gotten herself checked out by a doctor, but it had seemed like too much trouble immediately after the accident, and it was probably too late to bother with now. So she took another hot shower and wondered whether she’d be laughed at if she tried to find someone in Shadow Valley to give her a massage. Probably.

  After her binge of the night before, she decided against cereal for breakfast, and instead dressed and headed for the diner. Now that she had a car, she didn’t seem to need it; she could walk everywhere in town. But the freedom the car represented gave her peace of mind, and that was increasingly hard to come by.

  It was still fairly early and the diner wasn’t too busy, so Megan was able to claim the same seat at the counter as the day before. The waitress recognized her. “Hey, sugar. What can I get you?”

  Megan knew what she should order, but she’d be damned if she would. What did it matter if she stayed slim? The fatter she got, the more protection she’d have, she decided. “Breakfast special.” She looked at the sign on the wall. “Over easy, with bacon and wheat toast.” She tried to feel virtuous that she’d chosen the right bread, ignoring the fact that it happened to be her favorite.

  “And how do you take your coffee?”

  With milk and sweetener, normally. “Cream and sugar, please. Lots of both.” Apparently the reckless urge of the day before had transformed itself into a much more prosaic and, frankly, less attractive form of self-destructiveness. Oh well.

  The waitress came back with her coffee, and then picked up her own mug from the back counter. “You finding everything you need?” When Megan looked at her blankly, she smiled. “In town, I mean. You’re settling in okay?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

  “You know how long you’re going to be here for?” The woman seemed to misinterpret Megan’s pause and made a face. “I’m sorry, am I being nosy?” She set her coffee cup down and stuck out her right hand. “I’m Tina. Born and raised in Shadow Valley, so I just thought, if you have any questions…”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tina,” Megan said, and she returned the handshake. It was nice to meet her, someone with no ulterior motives or reasons for resentment. “And, no, not nosy at all. I’m just not sure quite how long I’ll be staying yet.”

  Tina nodded as if she understood how that went. Megan wondered if waitresses often had to deal with being sent to backwoods towns in order to avoid further public embarrassment of a public official. “It’s really beautiful up here,” she said, a peace offering for that last sarcastic thought, which Tina had never even been aware of.

  “God’s country,” Tina agreed, and took a sip of her coffee.

  Megan decided to take advantage of this opportunity. It would probably be a good idea to start looking into what the citizens thought about the law enforcement situation in Shadow Valley. “Tina, in terms of policing—what would you say the most important priority should be, in this community?”

  Tina looked surprised, then serious. “I think people should mind their own business.” She reached out and touched Megan’s arm, quick and gentle, with just the tips of her fingers. “I don’t mean you, sugar. I mean all these other outsiders. Causing trouble, getting people upset! We don’t need a bunch of suits from Washington, D.C. coming in and asking people questions. And trying to scare them!” She looked around her and realized that she’d been speaking at a good volume, transmitting her ideas to the whole room. Instead of being taken aback, she seemed to
revel in the opportunity. She nodded her chin at a gray-haired man sitting with a friend at one of the tables. “Stan, you were saying that they scooped up your grandson.” She looked back at Megan. “For kid stuff. He was drunk in public. On a Saturday night.” She shrugged, as if the boy had been doing exactly what he should have been. “And he happened to have a joint on him. One joint!” She shook her head and looked over at Stan, allowing him to continue the story.

  He obliged willingly. “If it’d been the sheriff’s department, they would have called me and I’d have gone down and picked him up. He’d have slept it off, and he’d have been shoveling manure on my farm until he couldn’t move his arms for a week or two. And that would have been it. But these feds…”

  A woman from another table chipped in, practically shaking in indignation. “Now that boy’s looking at a criminal record. For what? A little pot? It’s fine if he wants to work around here—and he dug my garden for me last year, did an excellent job, really hard worker—but if he wants to go somewhere else, somewhere they don’t know him? He’s going to have to drag that record right along with him.”

  Megan wasn’t going to take on the room. She wasn’t going to point out that the easiest way for the boy to have not gotten a record would have been for him to not be publicly drunk with a joint in his pocket. She was pretty sure the crowd wouldn’t want to hear that, and she felt a bit hypocritical about it anyway. After all, the easiest way for her to have protected herself from the media firestorm would surely have been to have kept her hands off her married boss.

  “We elect our sheriff,” Tina said. “And we weren’t sure about him at first, but he seems to understand how we want things done. We’re good with him now. So why do we have to put up with a bunch of outsiders messing up our town?”

  Megan looked over at Stan. “It’s not usual for federal agents to get involved in such a little thing.”