Dead to the World (8 page)

S
eeing where Harper Benton lived, the girls understood how she could so easily transfer out of Black Cat Ridge High and over to Codderville High: the street they’d turned on to paralleled the Texas Colorado River, which was the boundary line that separated the two school districts. Although this street was on the BCR side of the river, it wouldn’t take too much red tape to move to Codderville High.

There was a small community lining the river, mostly single-wide trailers with a few shacks thrown in. The address for the Bentons showed a double-wide trailer in better condition than the rest, sitting on a lot of at least a couple of acres, with well-tended flower beds just coming into bloom. There was a carport that housed an ancient but well-kept Toyota Celica. The pick-up from the night before was missing.

‘So the brother’s gone! We know that for sure!’ Megan said, bouncing up and down in her seat as Bess drove past the double wide.

The non-river side of the street was empty, save for a boat repair shop that appeared to be closed on Sunday. There were a couple of cars in the lot, but judging by the four flattened tires on one and the open hood exposing an empty interior on the other, the girls figured nobody was home. Bess pulled in and parked next to the tire-challenged car.

‘Good thinking,’ Megan said, patting her sister on the arm. ‘We can surveil to our heart’s content!’

‘Surveil—’ both her sisters said at once.

‘Is not a verb!’ Megan said, cutting them off and glaring at her sisters. ‘Well, if it isn’t, it should be! And that’s not the point! The point is—’

‘The point is,’ Bess interrupted, ‘we still don’t know if the mother’s home. I would assume that’s her car …’ She stopped abruptly and turned around in her seat to face Alicia. ‘Does Harper have her own car?’

Alicia shrugged. ‘As you may have gleaned from our earlier telephone conversation, we were never that close.’

‘Well, we still have to err on the side of caution and assume that
is
the mother’s car. So we also have to assume that the mother is still home.’

‘You know what they say about “assume,” don’t you?’ Megan said.

Both her sisters sighed. ‘Yes, Megan, we know.’

Not one to give an inch, Megan said, ‘Assume makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me”!’

Bess turned to Alicia and rolled her eyes. Turning back to Megan, she said, ‘OK, E.J., Junior., what do you propose we do now? Barge into the house, guns blazing? Use our non-existent glass cutter to cut our way through the back door? Oh, I know, hire a helicopter with a rope and a big hook and tear the roof off, then we can repel inside!’

‘You are getting on my last nerve!’ Megan said, teeth clenched.

‘OK, you two,’ Alicia, who had become used to playing referee with her foster sisters, said from the back seat. ‘Why don’t we just “surveil” for a little while. See if we can see the mother. See if anyone goes in or out.’

‘Works for me,’ Bess said.

‘Whatever!’ Megan said, folding her arms over her chest and staring out the side window. Unfortunately for her, it was the side away from the Bentons’ double wide.

They sat in silence for close to twenty minutes before they saw a side door open and Harper Benton come out.

‘OMG, she really
is
pregnant!’ Megan said, staring at the girl as she headed to the Celica under the carport.

‘She looks so cute!’ Alicia said, grinning.

And she did. Barely five foot two, her curly blonde tresses reaching her hips, Harper carried her pregnancy all in the front, no extra girth in her buttocks or legs or chest. Just a cute round mound covered by a gauzy hip-length top over blue jeans. She got in the driver’s side of the Celica, started the car and peeled out of the driveway at an alarming rate of speed, before Bess had even turned the key in the ignition of the minivan.

‘Hurry!’ Megan said, pounding Bess on the arm. ‘We’re gonna lose her!’

‘Ouch!’ Bess said, hitting Megan back.

‘Really, Bess,’ Alicia said from the back seat. ‘Hurry!’

‘I
am
hurrying!’ she said as she slammed the gearshift into reverse, backed up and headed out of the parking lot of the boat repair shop.

They caught up to Harper as she turned onto the highway, heading across the river into Codderville.

‘Where’s she going?’ Megan demanded.

‘How in the world would I know?’ Bess demanded back. ‘I’m following her, for gawd’s sake! She appears to be going to Codderville!’

‘Well, that’s pretty obvious!’ Megan shot back as Harper’s car took the main exit into the town they were very familiar with – their grandmother and now their brother lived there.

‘When we’re through following her, maybe we can go by Grandma’s. I bet she’s got dinner almost—’ Megan started.

But Alicia answered with a resounding ‘No!’

Bess used the rearview mirror to look at her foster sister. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. She turned to look at Megan. ‘What do you know that I don’t know?’

‘Just watch the road! Look, she’s turning!’ Megan said.

Harper turned into a strip shopping center about two miles from the interstate. Bess passed the entrance and turned on to the next street, which ran by the side of the strip mall. She stopped the minivan and the three watched as Harper got out of the Celica and headed into a dress shop.

They sat there for what seemed a very long time, before Bess brought them back to an earlier issue. ‘So what’s going on?’ she said, turning from one sister to the next and giving them both the evil eye.

‘What?’ Megan said. ‘Jeez, Bess, what’s got your panties in a twist?’

Bess stared at Alicia. ‘Why don’t you want to go by Grandma’s house?’ she asked.

‘Oh, that!’ Megan said. ‘Graham’s pissed Alicia won’t do the nasty with him so he’s saying he’s going back to UT and that they should date other people.’

‘Megan!’ Alicia yelled.

‘What?’ Megan asked, innocence personified. ‘You wanted me to keep this from Bess? I can’t do that! We’re sisters!’

‘Whatever,’ Alicia said, sinking back into the second row of seating.

‘And,’ Megan said, again facing Bess, ‘Alicia’s afraid it’s a good idea, that maybe she doesn’t
love
-love Graham, but maybe she brother-loves him, ya know?’

‘I’m dying here,’ Alicia mumbled from the back seat.

Bess turned around in her seat. ‘Is this true? Has he been sexually harassing you?’

‘We’re supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, right?’ Alicia said. ‘I don’t know a boyfriend in school who isn’t either already getting some or trying like mad to. And even the boys who don’t have girlfriends only think about one thing.’

Megan nodded her head. ‘You’re right. All teenage boys are sex fiends. It’s something to do with hormones.’

Bess’s shoulders straightened and she said with some dignity, ‘Logan’s not like that!’

‘The hell he isn’t!’ Alicia, who never, ever cursed, said from the back seat. ‘After what I saw last night, that’s
all
he’s thinking about!’

Megan looked wide-eyed at Alicia, then turned her gaze on Bess, her eyes turning into slits. ‘So what happened last night? Are you still a virgin or not?’

Bess turned blood red and stared straight out the front window. ‘We kissed. That’s all! Jeez, you two! Can’t a girl get kissed without all this drama?’

‘Well, you know what kissing leads to!’ Alicia said, then burst into tears.

Both her sisters were on her in a heartbeat. ‘Oh, Alicia, I’m so sorry!’ Bess said. ‘This thing with Graham must be awful for you! Should we call Mom?’

‘She doesn’t want to bother Mom,’ Megan said, patting Alicia’s arm. ‘But I bet if we tell Grandma, she’d put the fear of God into him!’

‘Or poison his food!’ Alicia said, still wailing.

‘Maybe a little laxative in a brownie, but nothing fatal, I’m sure,’ Megan said.

‘It’s bad enough that you two know my shame! I don’t want anyone else to!’ Alicia got out between sobs.

‘Shame?’ Bess said. ‘What shame? Your boyfriend’s an asshole and somehow that’s your fault? You’re not sure if this is the right relationship for you, and you’re to blame for what? Being smart?’

‘What’s that line in that movie
Speed
?’ Megan asked. ‘Where Keanu Reaves says something about relationships that start out with bad stuff happening don’t do well.’

‘It was Sandra Bullock. And it’s not “bad stuff happening” – it’s something like relationships happening in “intense circumstances,”’ Bess said.

‘Whatever,’ Megan retorted. ‘All I’m saying is you both got real
intense
’ – she glared at Bess – ‘when you got kidnapped, and it was like a false foundation for a relationship.’

Bess nodded and slapped Megan on the arm. ‘Good one, Megs.’ Turning to Alicia, she said, ‘She’s right. Maybe someday y’all will find a way back to each other, when
he’s
more mature, but right now, I think him going back to UT and both of you seeing other people might be a good idea.’

Alicia sighed and dried her eyes and wiped her nose on the hem of her T-shirt. ‘All I know is
I’m
not going to be doing any dating! I’ve had it with guys!’

‘You gonna go lesbo?’ Megan asked.

‘Jeez, Megan!’ Bess said. ‘You say one sensitive thing and it’s just too much for you, huh? You have to go crass! And it’s not “lesbo,” it’s lesbian. I doubt they like being called “lesbos,” any more than gay men like being called … well, you know, those other bad words. Not to mention it’s not a choice, or haven’t you heard?’

‘Lordy, I didn’t know you were the politically correct police!’ Megan said.

Bess made a face and frowned at her sister. ‘Tell you what, let’s ask Mom when they get back.’

‘Oh, gawd no! Don’t turn me in to the pinko-liberal police! You’re bad enough!’

‘I’m gonna tell Mom—’

Alicia sighed. ‘Stop it, y’all. Why do you think she’s still in there?’ she asked, staring at the store Harper had disappeared into.

‘You think she knew we were following her so she went in there and went out the back door?’ Megan asked.

‘And leave her car?’ Bess asked.

‘Could have,’ Megan said.

‘Maybe we should go in and check,’ Alicia said.

Both Megan and Bess turned to look at their foster sister. ‘And we know who that has to be,’ Bess said.

‘Yup,’ Megan agreed and grinned.

Willis didn’t stay long on his so-called walk. He came back disgusted that the bar was showing the 1947 Army–Navy game. The living room was still cordoned off with official yellow police tape, so Willis and I headed upstairs, leaving Miss Hutchins in the kitchen, puttering around. Once in our room, I told him about the possible theft of the pitcher and basin, and my idea that the person who took it may have also been the person making the
grrrrrrrrrr-plop
ping sound in the hall.

‘
Rrrrrrrrrrr-thump
,’ he corrected.

‘No! Definitely
grrrrrrrrrr-plop
.’

He sighed. ‘There’s just no arguing with you. You always think you’re right!’

‘Because I usually am!’ I said. ‘Anyway, I have an idea.’

‘Another one?’ he said, his tone implying that my ideas were less than stellar. An opinion I begged to differ with.

‘You go out in the hall and drag a piece of furniture toward the staircase and I’ll see if it’s the same sound.’

My dutiful husband sank down on the bed, hands behind his head. ‘I’ve got a better idea. You do it,’ he said.

I laid down next to him on the bed, put an arm across his chest, smiled up at him and began tickling him. Willis hates to be tickled. He says it hurts. I think it only hurts his manly pride. A big guy like him giggling and squirming makes him feel less than masculine. Again, I begged to differ. I thought it was just plain cute, but still, knowing his hatred of tickling, I knew doing it would get me the desired result.

He jumped off the bed. ‘Stop that!’ he said.

‘While you’re up,’ I said, stretching languidly, ‘go drag a piece of furniture down the hall.’

‘If you promise never to tickle me again! Ever!’

I thought about it for a moment. ‘I can’t promise not ever, but I can promise not while we’re here in Peaceful. And I also promise to make you very happy later tonight.’

He didn’t think about it nearly as long as I had. ‘Deal!’ he said and headed out the door, shutting it behind him.

I snuggled into the bed, laying on the side that I usually used to fall asleep, trying to as accurately as possible recreate the scene from the night before. Then I heard a sound.
Scritch, scritch, scritch.

I got up and went to the door. He was pulling a medium-sized table down the hall. Behind him I could see a lamp and several knick-knacks on the floor. ‘That’s not it,’ I said. ‘Put that back – and the stuff back on it! – and grab something else.’

I could hear him sigh as I went back in the bedroom and shut the door. I hopped back on the bed and turned on my side. A few minutes later I heard:
bump, bump, bump
. My turn to sigh. I got up and opened the door. It was a large chest of drawers and Willis was moving it by walking it down the hall. ‘Not that way!’ I said.

‘Jeez Louise!’ he said. ‘I can’t even drag furniture right?’

‘But you’re not
dragging
it! You’re
walking
it! Try dragging it!’ I said and hurried back into the room. I wasn’t even in bed yet when I heard the sound from the hall. More
scritch, scritch, scritch
. I sighed and opened the door. ‘Not it,’ I said.

‘I’m through with this!’ Willis said and walked past me into our room.

‘You’re just going to leave that there?’ I accused, looking at the large chest of drawers right in front of our doorway.

Flopping down on the bed, Willis said, ‘If you want it moved I suggest
you
do it!’

I glared at his back as he’d turned away from me and curled into a loose fetal position. Sighing as loudly as possible, I went into the hall and began to wrestle the huge piece of furniture back to where it came from. Willis had been right in the first place: walking it was much easier than dragging. I saw a darker shade of wallpaper in the right size to fit the chest, and walked it into place.