A Stillness of Chimes (17 page)

Gram had worshiped a wild and fearsome God who visited Holy Ghost revivals and tent meetings, who whispered to sinners on the mourners’ bench and carried them home like lost lambs. She’d have been heartbroken if she’d known her daughter might one day drift away from the church and be accused of breaking her marriage vows.

“You’ve been unfaithful. Don’t deny it. Don’t lie to me.”

Laura shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Yet she couldn’t forget the pain in her father’s voice, nor could she forget the way Gibby had smiled down at her mom in the snapshot she’d tucked away in the cedar chest.

Even if something had happened between them, it was twelve years in the past. Most likely, nothing had happened. Nothing at all.

Going inside, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the casserole. She wasn’t a fan of tuna. Ardelle must have forgotten, but it was sweet of her to bring supper anyway.

Laura lifted the foil from the dish. “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty. Mikey, you want a special treat?”

Halfway to his brother’s place, Sean spotted old Granny Colfax hustling through the weeds by the side of the road. He’d be smart to steer clear of the old biddy, but on the other hand, she’d been around forever. Maybe she’d even give him a scrap of information about Elliott.

There he went again, half believing the man could be alive.

He slowed, passing her, and pulled over on the shoulder to wait. It didn’t take long. For an old woman, she was in good shape.

He leaned across the cab and opened the passenger door. “Granny Colfax,” he called. “Where are you headed?”

She stopped by the opened door and peered up at him. “My ears are bad, but there’s nothin’ wrong with my eyes. You’re a Halloran.”

“Yep.” The less said about that, the better.

“Well, your smile makes you favor your mama, God rest her soul, and that’s a good thing. Your hair flops into your eyes and onto your collar, and that’s a bad thing. You look like a hippie, young man. Now, what did you ask? Speak up so I can hear you.”

“Where are you headed?” he bellowed.

“To a friend’s house.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Oh … north of town.”

“We are north of town.”

“Like I said. North. Farther north. Where are
you
bound, young fella?”

“My brother’s place. Climb in and tell me where to turn. Come on, it’s getting too dark for you to be out on the road.”

She gave him a shrewd, considering stare, then nodded. “Don’t mind if I do. These achy ol’ legs just ain’t what they used to be.”

She climbed in, settled a paper tote bag at her feet, and pulled the heavy door closed but ignored the seat belt.

Sean checked the rearview mirror. While he waited for traffic to pass, he glanced down at Granny’s paper bag. It was full of peaches. She must have bought them at the produce stand down the road.

“Don’t you look funny at my old shoes,” she said. “They’re ugly, but they’re broke-in and comfortable. Like me.”

He hadn’t even noticed her shoes. Sure enough, they were hideous. She’d cut off part of the tops, leaving her toes bare. They weren’t any prettier than the shoes.

“Yes ma’am.” He checked his mirror again.

“Seen Jessamyn’s girl lately?” she asked.

He let out a short laugh. “I have.”

“She’s a sweet thing, in her way. I ran into her a few days ago, and she looked peaked, like she needed a hug. Back in the day, it was you she got her hugs from.”

“Back in the day.” Traffic had cleared, and he pulled the truck onto the road. “That was high school. Things change.”

“Some things do, some things don’t, but you and the Gantt girl always seemed to belong together.”

He scowled at the road and didn’t answer.

“I’m just glad to see you turning into a decent man, bein’ as your daddy comes from a long line of scoundrels and liars—filthy rich though they were.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a little laugh. “Now, here’s the mystery. How did that nice Wilkins girl wind up married to Dale Halloran? A baby on the way, maybe? I don’t remember the particulars of your big brother’s birth, but I know a lot of babies seem to come early in this town. Eight-month babies at best, but most people pretend not to notice.”

Sean sighed. His mother would have been better off as a single mom, but then he never would have been conceived. “Is that any of your business?”

“No, but why are you so down at the mouth? You got yourself some troubles? I never had no babies of my own, but that don’t mean I can’t mother folks who need mothering.”

“I don’t need mothering.”

“All right, all right. I got no call to offer advice.”

His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and checked caller ID. Mrs. Anderson, a customer with more money than manners. He hit “ignore” and put the phone on the seat beside him.

Granny eyed it with suspicion. “Folks are always talking, talking, talking on those silly things. All those calls, cluttering up the heavens. Turning the whole sky into the tower of Babel. I wonder if anybody ever really listens to each other anymore.”

“You might have something there.”

“The other day, when I ran into Ardelle Bright down to the grocery store, that poor woman talked my ear off like nobody ever listens to her. She’s the lonesomest woman.”

Sean frowned. Over coffee, Cassie had told him about her mom’s new issues. “She’s a talker, all right.”

“She comes from a hard place, but don’t we all? Some of us wind up working for sin’s wages. Some of us find grace in the eyes of the Lord. Not wages, but a gift.” She reached across the broad seat to poke his shoulder with a bony finger. “Somebody had to pay for it, though. That’s the way of it. Somebody had to pay.”

“Yes ma’am.” He waited for more sermonizing, but she must have spoken her fill.

The miles flew by, silent except for the truck’s powerful engine. They passed the old Gantt cabin and then the road his brother lived on. A flock of starlings burst out of a tree and passed over them like a mob of miniature torpedoes with wings.

Granny’s old eyes followed them too. She didn’t miss a thing.

“Funny things, birds. Fun to watch, as long as they’re flying free.” She gave him a sly smile. “That Granny Colfax, she’s a strange old bird, ain’t she?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Sure you would. Everybody does. I’m young on the inside, though.” She peered out the window and rapped on it with her knuckles. “Drop me at this next corner.”

“I’ll take you right to your friend’s door.”

“No, no. I’ll walk that last little bit. I do like my exercise.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want. It’s how I’ve lived this long. Exercise and right living.”

He pulled to the side of the road at the next corner. “Ames Creek Road. Is this the right spot?”

“It is.” She reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the lift.”

“Hang on a second, Granny. I’ve got a question.”

She squirmed toward the edge of the seat. “Don’t take too long, son. My friend’s waitin’ on me.”

Sean looked her right in the eye. She looked him right back.

“You have any opinions about Elliott Gantt?” he asked.

“Course I do. A fine man, if not quite right in the head sometimes. I always loved to hear him play. Loved to sing along too.”

“I mean, do you have any opinions about the rumors?”

“That he’s alive and well, walking around town at night?” She laughed. “Wandering around where he might get caught? No. Try the mountains.”

“Needle in a haystack.”

“Yes sir, and that’ll keep you busy for a while.”

“Even if the needle’s there, it doesn’t mean anybody’s gonna find it,” he said.

“Ain’t that the truth. Now, I thank you for the ride.” She grabbed the door handle. It didn’t move.

Sean leaned over and opened it for her. “Be careful now, out there on the road.”

“Don’t you worry about me.” She climbed out with her tote and gave him a smile as he reached over to close the door. “Thank you,” she hollered over the engine’s noise.

“You’re welcome.”

He made a U-turn in the intersection, gathered speed, and headed back toward Keith’s place. Granny Colfax wasn’t the most aggravating woman in the world—that honor belonged to Laura—but Granny ran a close second. Giving her a lift hadn’t gleaned a bit of information.

Sean parked in Keith’s driveway and waved at the sweaty, smiling boys bouncing on the trampoline in the side yard of the split-level house. Annie beckoned from the kitchen window. Sean walked into the bright, tidy house, greeted her, and went straight to the fridge for a longneck.

He twisted the top off and raised the bottle high. “Here’s to all women everywhere. The good, the bad, and the impossible.”

Keith came around the corner, slung his arm around Annie’s shoulders, and gave Sean the once-over. “Which one is impossible? Laura?”

Sean returned the scrutiny. Keith was lucky. Except around the eyes, he resembled the Wilkins side of the family. His military bearing contrasted nicely with Annie’s happy-go-lucky personality too. They were good for each other.

“Yeah,” Sean said. “Laura. And Granny Colfax.”

Annie arched her eyebrows. “Do tell. I’m listening.”

He lifted the beer again. “And here’s to nosy women. Cheers.”

She snatched up a kitchen towel and snapped it at him. “You’re lucky I love you like a brother, or I’d knock that chip right off your shoulder.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” He sauntered out of the kitchen and onto the porch, the door banging shut behind him. He settled into a chair exactly like the ones on Laura’s porch and his own. Half the population of Prospect owned at least one piece of Gantt furniture or a Gantt-built guitar or banjo.

He should have headed home. Instead, there he was, traipsing from Laura’s house to Keith’s and fuming about Elliott and that whole mess, whatever it was. Sometimes it seemed like an iceberg, with nine-tenths of the menace submerged but waiting.

A small plane droned across the sky like a bored insect. Its lights winked brighter as it neared the horizon where the sky had already darkened.

Sean’s phone rang. Mrs. Anderson again. He turned off the phone and put it away, wanting to chuck it in the trash so nobody could track him down.

Keith had the right idea. He’d never bought a cell phone. He refused to, no matter how much Annie nagged him to join her in modern times. He’d probably get along just fine with Granny Colfax.

The door swung open. Keith came out with a Coke and sat in the other chair. He set the can on the wide wooden arm. When he popped the top, the hard surface amplified the sound, making Sean flinch. He hadn’t been this jumpy in a long time.

“You might want to apologize to my wife,” Keith said.

Sean walked to the door and stuck his head in. “Annie,” he called. “I’m sorry I was rude.”

A muffled but cheerful answer came from somewhere inside. Presumably her acceptance of his apology.

He returned to his chair. He wasn’t feeling sociable, but he wasn’t in the mood to be alone either. It was a comfort to have a brother a couple of feet away. An older brother who had his head screwed on straight.

“Windy tonight,” Sean said, trying for a casual tone. “Another storm’s coming.”

“You didn’t come over to talk about the weather.”

“Nah. I came for a free beer. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now talk. But I tell Annie everything, so keep that in mind before you start.”

“Who says I’m talking?” Sean propped his feet up on the railing and tried to enjoy the tart refreshment of the beer sliding down his throat.

Keith sighed and settled more comfortably in his chair. “What’s on your mind? Laura?”

“Laura. Jess. Elliott. Everything. I don’t want to believe those stupid rumors, but I’m starting to wonder.”

“Me too.”

Sean looked across the long lawn, across the road, and up to the smoky-green foothills and the distant blue mountains, the colors softening as afternoon became evening.

The Smokies held endless places for a man to hide, except wealthy newcomers from the cities kept crowding into the backwoods. Hundreds of new homes perched high in the mountains now, so far away as to be invisible until the sun touched the windows and turned them to fire. Every new outpost of civilization made the wilderness that much smaller.

“Elliott was tough as nails,” Keith said. “If anybody could survive, he could. Especially if he had help from a friend or two. And he had a lot of friends.”

“Do you think it was the war that made him come unglued?”

Keith gave him a sharp look. “How would I know? And watch what you say. Not every combat veteran is a keg of dynamite looking for a match.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a while, Keith tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair and Sean nursing his beer. Nursing his thoughts. He didn’t much like them.

Elliott was trained to survive. Trained to kill too, and he possessed a violent temper.

“What’s bothering you, little brother?”

Sean shook his head. That childhood memory was crystallizing, getting clearer, like the moon seen through a good telescope. It was far away and always would be, but it was clear, its details distinct. The sun shining
on glass and chrome and brown metal. And the water. That deep, dark water.