He laughed again, returning his attention to the game. “You know my mom?”
“I know her from the tavern. She comes in with her friends for lunch.”
“The old bitches’ club,” he said with a derisive laugh.
I tamped down my irritation. Neither one of them seemed concerned about their mother, but it wouldn’t do me favors to say so. “Have you seen or talked to your mom since she was arrested?”
The kid on the couch made a face. “Nah. We can’t see her.”
“What about your dad?”
The kid who’d answered the door laughed. “He ain’t gonna waste his time.”
“Why not?” I asked, trying to hide my shock.
Disgust covered his face. “She’s never gettin’ out, so why would he bother?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Because he loves her?”
The guy on the sofa slapped his thigh and barked, “That’s a good one.”
“Don’t you guys care that your mother is in jail?” I hadn’t intended to say it so bluntly, but it burst out of me.
The kid on the sofa looked up at me, and I saw momentary pain flicker over his face, but he quickly covered it up with a look of manufactured contempt. “I’m gonna be movin’ to Knoxville in another year. So I wouldn’t be seein’ much of her then anyway.”
So this was Ricky. It was obvious this was hurting him a lot more than he was letting on. “You planning to go to college at UT?”
He snort-laughed. “That’s a good one.”
I couldn’t help myself from asking, “Do you have a career plan?”
“Now you sound like my teachers,” he said with a sneer.
“Yeah, well…” Old habits died hard.
“Thanks for the casserole,” Ricky said, returning to his video game. “We’ll be sure to eat it later.”
So I’d been dismissed. Not that I was surprised. “Yeah, sure.” I headed to the door, feeling like I’d screwed up, not because I’d failed to get useful information, but because Pam’s kid was hurting and he clearly didn’t know how to express it. Or feel like he could.
I started to walk out the front door, but I couldn’t bring myself to just leave like that. Turning around, I asked, “Hey, did you know Seth Chalmers?”
“What?” His gaze shot up to mine.
“Seth Chalmers. The boy who was killed last November. I think he was about your age.”
His expression sobered. “Yeah, I knew him.” His eyes widened. “Hey, you’re the woman who saw him killed, ain’t ya?”
“Yeah.”
His forehead furrowed. “Why’re you asking about him?”
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully, but to be honest, Seth was never far from my thoughts. I was sleeping in his bed. Living with his grandfather. I’d been the one to pack up his things. I’d held his hand while he died. The only people I knew who’d been close to Seth were Hank and Wyatt, but I suspected his friends had seen a different side. Still, I hadn’t even thought to ask about him until I was leaving, thinking about Ricky’s potentially wasted future. Maybe the reason I’d hesitated to leave Ricky like this was because I couldn’t help Seth, but Ricky still had a chance to make something of himself. “Were you two friends?”
He didn’t answer, but the boy I presumed to be his brother, Thad, said, “They were.”
“What was he like?” I asked.
Ricky didn’t answer at first, but then he swallowed audibly. His gaze was still on the TV screen, but I realized his avatar hadn’t moved since I’d asked about Seth. “He was cool,” he finally said.
“He was funny,” Thad said. “At least until his mom died. Then he turned serious.”
“I’m sure that was hard on him,” I said.
Ricky shrugged, looking indifferent. “She was a meth head.”
“But he loved her anyway,” I said softly. “He died trying to find out who was responsible for her death.”
He didn’t answer.
“She screwed up,” I said, “but he still loved her. We can’t turn that off just because someone has disappointed us.”
His head jerked up, his eyes locked on mine. “You think you’re a psychologist or something? You’re nothing but an old waitress at a dumpy bar.”
His remark was meant to sting, and it did, but I saw the pain in his eyes. “No,” I said, my voice tight. “I’m just a woman who has been disappointed by many of the people in my life, so I get wanting to understand.” I gave him a tight smile. “I’d love to know more about Seth. If you ever feel like talking about him, call me or drop by at the tavern.”
He gave me a long look, then turned back to the TV and said in a flippant tone, “Whatever.”
Thad glanced between me and his brother, then shrugged and headed into the kitchen.
There was nothing else to say, so I headed out the door, wondering if I’d just wasted my time and made Ricky feel worse. At least I’d given them a home-cooked meal.
I stopped next to my car, wondering if I should still try to talk to Ashlynn. For all I knew, she was at work. But then I saw one of the curtains in the front of the trailer flutter, as though someone had been watching me. Seconds later, the side door opened, and a young woman with long dark brown hair stepped out onto the wooden steps. Her maternity shirt was worn, and the pattern was something that had been popular over a decade ago.
“I ain’t never seen you here before,” she said with a wary look.
“I’ve never been here before.” I smiled, hoping it would give me a non-threatening appearance. “I’m a waitress at Max’s. Your mother came in every couple of weeks with her friends, and I got to know her pretty well. I heard about what happened and wanted to bring y’all some dinner.”
“How’d you know I was her daughter?” she asked, her voice pinched.
“Sandy told me you lived in a trailer next to your mother’s house. She said it would be okay if I brought y’all food.”
“You ain’t supposed to bring food today,” she said. “Nora Burgess is on the schedule for today.”
“Sandy suggested y’all might like havin’ another option.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Nora can’t cook worth shit.”
I grinned at her. “So I heard.”
She started down the steps, and as she turned, I noticed the rounded belly under her loose shirt. “You say you work at the tavern?” she asked in a much friendlier tone than moments before. “You’re the new waitress. The one who found Seth.”
“Yeah,” I said in surprise, not because she’d heard of me, but because of the familiar way she said Seth’s name. “Did you know Seth?”
“Sure did. He was Ricky’s best friend.”
I let that sink in for a couple of seconds as she closed the distance between us.
Did Hank know that? Had he lied to me when he’d said he didn’t know much about Pam and her family?
A breeze kicked up, blowing stray hairs from my face. I reached up to brush them away. “I asked Ricky if he knew Seth, but he kind of blew me off.”
“He didn’t handle his death very good.”
“Do you think he knew what Seth was up to?”
“Sure. He was trying to find out who gave his mother the bad drugs, and workin’ with Todd Bingham to do it.” She made a face. “Not many people know about that part, but Ricky did.”
“It makes sense that he’d know, seeing how they were best friends. Did Ricky tell you anything about what Seth found out?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He never talked about it. Even when Dad tried to beat it out of him.”
I cringed. “Your dad doesn’t approve of Bingham?”
She snorted. “Nope. Thinks he’s white trash.” She cocked a brow in challenge. “Don’t you?”
I hesitated before answering, “Bingham is a customer at Max’s.”
She released a short laugh. “Good answer.”
“He’s a complex man.”
“Even better answer,” she said with a
grin.
“I’m sorry about your mother. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. It just seems so unlike her.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “None of us saw this comin’, that’s for sure.”
“Did she know him?”
“No,” she said, wiping away a tear. “As far as I know, she’d never talked to the man before.”
Something hardened in me, watching her grief for her mother. Bart had done this. I was more sure of that than ever.
“Does the sheriff have any idea why she might have done it?”
Bitterness filled her eyes. “They don’t care. Case closed. And even if they did, they wouldn’t tell us nothin’. They keep sayin’ it’s an ongoin’ investigation.”
Pushing out a sigh, I shifted my weight. “Been there, done that. I was a person of interest in Seth’s murder, which is why they didn’t tell me anything, but they didn’t talk to Hank either.”
“It ain’t right,” Ashlynn said, more tears tracking down her cheeks. “Our lives were turned upside down too.”
“I know,” I forced past the lump growing in my throat. “You want answers to make sense of it all. We wanted them too. I guess we still do.”
She gave me a look of surprise. “I thought they knew what happened.”
“We have multiple pieces, but it feels like some of the puzzle is missing. We know why he was there and what he was doing, but how did he get into that motel room? How did he know that’s where the deal was supposed to go down?” I felt awful telling her a fib. The truth was we knew how he got there—Bingham. But there were still plenty of pieces missing, especially since the video footage he’d died to obtain was gone, erased by someone we still hadn’t identified.
Being here, talking to these people who’d known him, I realized that I still wanted to know more about him. I’d just refrained from asking Hank because I knew it hurt him too much to talk about what he’d lost.
More tears fell down her face. “I just want to tell her I love her and that I forgive her.”
“Have you tried to go see her?”
She shook her head. “My dad won’t take me, and I don’t have a car.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “Do you want to go see her?” She hesitated, so I added, “I’d be happy to take you. I have to go to Ewing anyway.”
For a moment she looked relieved, then she cast a fearful glance at the house. “My dad wouldn’t like it. He said she’s dead to us now.”
“I take it your father has a strong sense of right and wrong.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.” Tilting her head toward me, she said, “He’s always in the front pew at the First Baptist Church in Ewing.”
“Oh… Well, Jesus said to love the sinner and hate the crime.”
An amused look washed over her face. “You don’t go to church much, do you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah. It’s love the sinner, hate the sin,” she said with a hint of disgust that made my stomach clench, but then she added, “But then you don’t know my daddy. Do you go to church?”
“Um, no,” I said. “Although Carnita, the librarian, has invited me to the Methodist service in Drum.”
Her face brightened. “I know Carnita. She’s always so nice when I drop by the library.”
“What do you like to read?” I asked, starting to get excited. “I’m about to start a book club.”
“Read?” she said with a sharp laugh. “I go for the DVDs. She’s got a great collection.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Carnita had told me more than once that I was one of the only patrons who took any interest in the book collection.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down. “Why would you offer to take me to see my momma? What’s in it for you?”
Now I felt like pond scum, because there was something in it for me, so I decided to be somewhat truthful. “Because I like your mother, and I can’t help but think there are extenuating circumstances.”
Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I want to try to help her. I don’t know how to do that, but I do know she needs a good attorney, and I’m not sure the court-appointed one meets that description. So if you talk to her, maybe ask her what he’s done to help her, and we can decide if she should get someone else.”
“And who’s gonna pay for that fancy lawyer?” she asked with a sneer. “My daddy’s not payin’ for him, that’s for damn sure.”
“Well, I don’t know yet,” I admitted. I figured I’d find out if a new attorney was needed before I picked at the problem of how we could afford one.
“Why would you care?” she asked suspiciously.
“Like I said, I like her and want to help.”
“Nobody’s that nice.”
I understood her suspicion. Maybe I couldn’t convince her to let me help, but I could at least try. “I have a tutoring club at the tavern. Two days a week, kids come in and I help them with homework. This summer I’m helping them either keep from falling behind or try to catch up. I don’t get paid to do it, but I like kids and I like the feeling of helping them master something that was hard.” I shrugged. “I don’t have any answers for your mom, but she’s always been nice to me, and I feel like I have to do something. Some people bring casseroles, others get their hands dirtier.”
“And in your case, you do both,” she said with less venom.
“Yeah,” I conceded. “I guess I do.”
“I want to see my momma, but I’m supposed to be at work at one.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen. It was a little after eleven. “Where do you work?”
“At the drugstore in Ewing.”
“Well, if we go now, I can wait while you see her, then drop you off at work. Like I said, I’m going to Ewing anyway. I’m going to visit my friends at Greener Pastures, and then I’m having lunch with another friend. If you want, I can probably give you a ride home too.” It might mean being late for work, but this wasn’t just about getting information. I wanted to help her see her mother.
She twisted her mouth to the side, considering. “My friend offered to take me home, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to get there. I’ve been trying to line something up for the last fifteen minutes. Mom’s been taking me to work, but they impounded her car.” She paused. “I still need to get ready.”
“I’ll wait.”
She cast a glance at the house. “This will only take a few minutes, but you might want to come inside.”
I was assuming her father wasn’t home—otherwise she wouldn’t risk coming with me—so maybe she was worried her brothers would see me hanging around? Either way, I wouldn’t mind getting a peek inside her trailer. “Okay.”
I followed her inside, not surprised to see the cheap wood paneling on the walls or the avocado green counters in the old kitchen. She grabbed a cordless phone off its base on the counter. “I’ll call Amber and tell her I found a ride. She said she’d try to figure something out for me if I couldn’t.”
“Mind if I get a glass of water?” I asked.
“Nope. Help yourself.” She headed down the hall, disappearing into a room at the end and shutting the door.
I headed into the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes that spilled out onto the counter, not surprising given there wasn’t a dishwasher. I opened a few cabinets, searching for a glass, but also looking around the space, trying to find anything personal that would give me some insight into Ashlynn or her family. There wasn’t anything. No pictures. Not even any artwork on the walls. The furniture consisted of what was likely yard sale finds, and the kitchenware looked like it had been pieced together with hand-me-downs and thrift store finds.
I finally found a plastic cup that was so worn and shaggy it looked like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper, but I didn’t want to offend Ashlynn, so I filled it with water from the tap and carried it into the dining area at the front of the tr
ailer. A bowed window with short curtains looked out over the driveway and the road behind my car.
A stack of papers lay on the small round table. I cast a glance over my shoulder to make sure the door was still shut, then set the cup down and quickly looked through the papers. There were plenty of bills, some in Ashlynn’s name, including a bill from a doctor for five hundred dollars, but some of them were addressed to Chuck Holston, including a few credit card statements, a phone bill, and an electric bill—all to the same address, only a couple of numbers off from Pam’s address.
I heard a noise behind me, so I picked up my cup and turned toward the hall.
“I’m almost done,” Ashlynn said as she walked out of the room and through the door next to it. “I just have to put on a little makeup, then I’m ready.”
I held up my water. “I’m fine. Just enjoying the view out your window.”
“It ain’t that excitin’,” she said, leaving the door open.
I considered snooping in the living room, but there was nothing on the end tables or coffee table. I suspected it wasn’t worth getting caught. But I noticed a photo on the side of the fridge, held up by a magnet bearing the name of Travis Keeling, the insurance agent Sandy had mentioned. I leaned closer, recognizing four of the five people—Pam, Ashlynn, Ricky, and Thad. The boys had on button-down shirts, and Ashlynn and Pam were wearing dresses. The man in the photo, whom I presumed was Pam’s husband, was wearing a white dress shirt and black tie. He was the only person not smiling. The photo looked like it was a couple of years old, and from the background, I gathered they were at church. I mentally added the First Baptist Church to my list of places to check out.
“Oh, you found our family photo,” Ashlynn said, catching me off guard.
I jumped, placing my free hand on my chest as water sloshed out of my cup and onto my other hand. “You scared the crap out of me.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure how. I clomp around like an elephant these days.”
I pointed to the man. “Is that your dad?”
A frown washed over her face. “Yeah. You ready?”
“Yep.” I took a sip of the water, the rough plastic scraping my bottom lip. I dumped out the water in the sink and set the cup on the counter. “Sorry to add to your pile of dishes. Will your husband wash them when he gets home?”
Buried in Secrets: Carly Moore #4 Page 10