Echoes (12 page)

He looked at the few items on his desk. A coffee cup with pens his secretary had given him, a brass bell engraved with the date he'd become principal here, a lucky five dollar chip from the casino in Piney River, and a picture of himself parasailing in Mexico. There was nothing else personal on the desktop. What did that say about him? Nothing he wanted to address at the moment, that was certain.

He rifled through the stack of pink messages Donna had left for him by the phone. Most were sympathy calls. Parents, friends and neighbors, all wanting to offer him their condolences.
Lydia had called three times. She was concerned, he knew. He should have stopped in this morning for coffee and talked to her. But he couldn't deal with Lydia anymore than he could with himself, alone at home. He needed the quasi-anonymity that came from doing a job in a building full of kids that didn't even know he had a first name.

Craig tossed the messages back onto his desk and let out a pent up breath. His thoughts played hot potato in his mind, bouncing from one sensitive hold to another, leaving behind a dull burn and the promise of a revisit.

During the past few years, his father had become more a burden than anything else. They loved each other in their own way. But the quality of their relationship had spiraled from the occasional perfunctory dinner to confrontations about Frank's future. He was too old to maintain the ranch and too stubborn to give it up. With Grant off living the Hollywood dream, the weight of responsibility had fallen to Craig's shoulders and he'd managed to carry the load. Then Grant had returned like the hero in one of his own movies and everything had gone completely to pieces.

Craig rubbed his hands over the rough stubble on his cheeks. He was tired of thinking about it, about Grant, about Dad, about Tori, about the entire mess preceding and following his horrible death. Death by fire, just like his mother. He didn't know how he would make it through the days still to go before the funeral.

He looked at the clock, wondering how much longer Mrs. Sanders would keep Caitlin and Tess. Wondering what Mrs. Sanders was harvesting from Caitlin's ripe, young mind. Before she'd disappeared, had Tori given her any hints about why? Or was Caitlin as confused as everyone else by her mother's vanishing?

He heard their footsteps echoing in the hall seconds before their voices. Quickly he grabbed his raincoat and umbrella. He pulled his office door shut behind him and stepped out to wait.

When he saw Tess, Craig was startled by her appearance. This morning she'd been disheveled and embarrassed to be caught in her pajamas, but she'd recovered quickly and with grace. Without makeup, a hair brush, or even coffee she'd been beautiful and alluring. The moment he set eyes on her, he'd wanted to abandon his agenda and focus on nothing more than getting her in bed. But Tess Carson wasn't a woman who'd be easily manipulated or seduced. She was different. She'd struck him as a woman who had it all together, and she would expect the same of any man.

Later, when she'd arrived at the school, she seemed preoccupied. That was understandable. But something had changed since he'd left her in Mrs. Sanders' office. Something had darkened those confident blue eyes, given them a panicked glow and a gleaming frailty that they hadn't had before. What had Mrs. Sanders told her?

"How did everything go?" he asked, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.

She looked beyond him, silent for a long moment. "It's still raining," she said, her voice sounding oddly disconnected.

An eerie sensation crept down Craig's spine.
Someone’s walking on your grave
, his grandmother would have said of it.

"Hasn't let up at all," he answered slowly.

"Like the wrath of God," she murmured, staring at the gray streaked world outside the glassed doors of the school.

This time her edgy tone sent a shudder through him. "No, just a spring storm," he said, rethinking his assessment that she had it all together. Right now, she seemed to be completely out of it. "It might rain through the night. They're socking in for a flood up in
Piney River. Of course the weather guy is only right about half the time, so it probably won't be all that bad." He squatted down to Caitlin. "Did you have a good talk with Mrs. Sanders?"

"She let me have two suckers."

Her bright pink lips and tongue added testimony to that statement. Craig smiled at her. "Do you feel better?"

"I should talk more," Caitlin said solemnly.

"About what?"

"Things I think about. Sometimes I don't talk about them."

"Yeah, sometimes I do that too."

His knees popped when he stood, adding weight to the feeling that he was much too old for any of this. Ancient before forty. It didn't seem fair. Tess didn't say anything, but her silence was unnerving. Something had to have happened in Mrs. Sanders' office, but what? What had she learned?

"I was thinking maybe we could grab a bite to eat," he said. "Talk over dinner." She was shaking her head before he even finished, but he rushed on. "Come on. You gotta eat."

"Aren't you...I mean, I'm sure you have family matters to deal with right now that are more pressing than our problems."

"Well, we Westons are an unusual family and our family matters usually turn into brawls. My brother and I are kind of like Arabs and Jews. Put us in the same room and there's bound to be trouble."

She still looked confused, though now she seemed a little less disoriented. Like she'd been in a haze that had suddenly cleared, but left her wondering how she'd gotten there in the first place. Whatever she'd learned about Tori in Mrs. Sanders' office, it was major.

She said, "I met your brother today."

He couldn't help the knee jerk reaction that caused. When had she met Grant? He checked his emotions and forced a teasing grin. "Is that why you're not jumping at the opportunity to have dinner with me tonight? Forget all the movie star stuff. I am the
principal
of the elementary school. I'm the most famous person in town. Come on. Have dinner with me."

She made a nervous sound that he supposed might pass for a laugh. "Thank you, Craig. But I don't think either one of us feels up to being in public." She looked down at Caitlin who was watching her aunt with wide, curious eyes.

"In this weather, we'll probably be the only fools out," he said. "In
any
weather we wouldn't have to worry about a crowd. This isn't exactly a thriving metropolis we live in."

"I'd noticed it's a bit...quiet here."

His laugh was genuine. "Please, say yes. I really don't want to go home to a dark house and another zapped lasagna." She hesitated and he pressed on. "There's a restaurant right around the corner—the Steak Your Claim. Home of the ultimate 20-ounce Porterhouse."

She gestured at her faded blue jeans and sneakers. "I'm not dressed for anything nice."

"Who said it was nice? You're in Mountain Bend. We think getting dressed up is washing both sides of our hands."

She touched the silky golden hair on her niece's head. "What do you want to do Caitlin? Do you want to go?"

Caitlin shrugged. "I guess. They have fish there."

"You like fish?"

"Not to eat. To watch. I like to watch them."

* * *

Steak Your Claim was a small restaurant squatting in a stamp-sized parking lot between Benson's Grocery and a Mobile station. Tess followed Craig's dark blue Lexus from the school and pulled in beside him. She saw Grant's truck parked by the door and next to it, a sheriff's cruiser. Strange that they would all meet up here tonight, but then again Mountain Bend was a very small town and most likely had little to offer to the dining connoisseur. Still, she couldn't help but feel that she'd been set up for an ambush.

If she hadn't been so disoriented and mixed up earlier, she would have been firmer in declining Craig's offer. She wasn't up to small talk across a table, but his plea to be saved from a dark house had echoed her own desperation. She didn't want to return to Tori's home and part the shadows with the stifling fear building inside her.

Craig was already out of his car and waiting at her door. Wishing she could just throw it into reverse and peel out, she shut off the engine and joined him. The three of them raced through the downpour. As they reached the front door, it swung open unexpectedly and Grant nearly knocked her over on his way out.

Craig caught her arm and held her steady. "Watch where you're going," he snapped at his brother.

Grant didn't answer and the look he gave Tess was filled with censure. What she'd done to deserve it, she couldn't begin to guess. Without a word he turned up his collar and sprinted to his truck.

"He's never had any manners," Craig muttered.

The restaurant had an Old West theme with wagon wheel railings and horseshoe coat racks. Dark red leather booths lined the walls and a scattering of walnut tables and matching chairs took up the limited floor space in between. A crowd of thirty would start a waiting list. But no worries there. Most of the tables were empty.

Smith and Ochoa sat in a booth against the far wall. Each had a section of the paper open beside their plates. They both glanced up as Tess, Craig and Caitlin came in. Smith's eyes narrowed on them. Ochoa gave her a concerned smile and small salute.

A white-haired foursome had a table in the middle of the room and they watched with unconcealed curiosity as a waitress led Craig's group to their table. Tess heard them whispering behind her.

The only other customer sat tucked behind a half-wall. Tess realized it was
Lydia. She was staring at them, or at least staring in their direction with a look of stunned disbelief. Tess didn't understand why she looked so shocked at the sight of them....unless it was something else, someone else, in the restaurant that had upset her. Or perhaps someone who'd just left?

Tess paused at her table and said, "Hello,
Lydia."

Lydia
quickly masked her feelings with a shy smile and said hello.

"
Lydia, how are you?" Craig said as if he'd just realized she was there. "I didn't think anyone else would be nuts enough to brave this storm for a steak and potato."

Tess could tell that he hadn't intended to reference her being there in terms of her desire for food, but
Lydia most certainly interpreted the remark that way. Her fleshy face flushed deep red and she lowered humiliated eyes to her plate where a sprout of parsley perched on the edge, the sole survivor of a feast that had left only crumbs and a cleaned T-bone behind. A second plate, partially cleaned, was on the other side of the table. Tess wondered who had dined with her. Grant? Possibly. Possibly the plate had been Lydia's as well.

"It looks like we're too late for you to join us for dinner," Craig continued, unaware of the embarrassment he caused her. "But how about a cup of coffee and dessert?"

She shook her head, glancing at Tess from the corner of her eye. Craig had obviously hurt her feelings and Tess felt badly for her.

"Please join us," Tess said immediately.

"I'm all through," Lydia answered in that soft, breathy voice. "I want to get home before the storm gets any worse." She snapped open her purse and pulled out some money. She set it on the table and stood, forcing Tess to take a step back. Lydia wore an elegant coral silk skirt and matching top, but the rain had riddled both with water spots and a large grease stain lay like a gaudy broach between her ample breasts.

"Why don't you go ahead to the table," Craig said to Tess. He waited for her nod before trailing
Lydia to the door where she was struggling with the inside out sleeve of her tan trench coat.

Caitlin and Tess followed the waitress who had waited patiently through the exchange. She wore a nametag with Cece on it.

"I know where
you
want to sit," she said to Caitlin as she stopped at a booth beside an aquarium that bulged globelike from a partial divider wall. Caitlin scooted up to it and stared in at the brightly colored world of exotic fish and sea creatures.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Cece asked Tess.

"Yes. White wine, please. No—make that a rum and coke. Easy on the coke."

Cece winked. "How about you, honeybunch? You want your usual?"

Caitlin nodded without turning away from the fish. Craig and Lydia had stepped out of sight, and in the quiet Tess leaned back against the soft leather of the booth and took a deep breath. Like a movie, memory flashed scenes of Molly and Adam, Rosie and Brodie Weston…

We Westons are an unusual family….

The blackout this morning still hovered in her mind like dense fog concealing shadowy images, but she could recall every detail of the
episode
she'd had in Mrs. Sanders' office. And now she'd made a connection—the man on horseback, the man she'd seen from Tori's bedroom window—he was Adam. She was sure of it. So what was he doing here and now?

Tess covered her face with her hands. She had to have dreamed it all up, for God's sake. Clearly she'd incorporated her stress and worry into some weird dream world where her subconscious had cast the Westons into roles of their own. She nodded to herself. It was the only thing that made sense. She'd hardly slept the night before and exhaustion most certainly had sacrificed her to her innermost worries.

It had to be, because the alternative was that she was delusional.

Cece returned with a tall glass filled with pink liquid and ten cherries for Caitlin and a short glass with cola colored rum for Tess. Tess thanked her and then forced herself not to gulp the drink down. Her hands were shaking.

"Cece seems to know exactly what you like," Tess said to Caitlin when the waitress had left. "Do you and your mom come here a lot?"

"Sometimes."

"Alone?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes with Mr. Weston."

"Which Mr. Wes—"

"Sorry about that," Craig said, suddenly appearing at the table. He smoothed his hair, and slid into the other side of the booth. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting so long."

"No problem."

"
Lydia called me several times today to offer her condolences, but I didn't call her back. Her feelings were hurt."

"You don't have to explain."

"I'm not. She's a sweet woman, and I wanted her to know I appreciated her concern."

"I'm glad you saw her then."

Wishing he'd have stayed out another minute until Caitlin answered her question, Tess opened the menu. In silence, they both studied it. Caitlin, it seemed, had a regular dinner choice as well as drink and she told Tess what it was before returning her attention to the fish.

After they'd ordered dinner, another rum and coke for Tess and a beer for Craig, he leaned forward and asked, "How did it go with Mrs. Sanders today?"

It was the second time he'd asked, and something made Tess wonder if it was more than courtesy or curiosity that made him do it.

"Caitlin says it went fine."

Caitlin scooted out of the booth and circled around to the other side of the aquarium. They could see her face, distorted by the water, through the bowl.

"Mrs. Sanders spoke to Caitlin alone, so I don't know what was said. You were hoping that Caitlin told her something about Tori."

"Weren't you?"

Tess shrugged. "If she knew something about her mother, she would have mentioned it by now. It seems more likely she'd tell me than a stranger."

"Why? For all practical purposes, you are a stranger, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only see her a couple times a year."

"How do you know that?"

Craig took a drink, looking away. "Caitlin told me. Honestly, Tess, I think Caitlin does know something. Maybe she just doesn't think it's something important."

"Like what?"

"Well, Lydia told me about Caitlin pulling that key out and saying Tori had given it to her. Don't tell me that's not strange."

The restaurant suddenly seemed very warm and the smell of roasting meat, sickening. She took a drink before answering. "I'm her only living relative. Who else would she have given a key to?"

"You have a point. But Sheriff Smith said Tori's car is still missing. He thinks she must have seen the accident and ran."

"Everyone seems very willing to believe that of her. My sister is not the kind of person who'd just take off and leave an injured man to die."

"I wasn't saying she would. But what about the money, Tess? It didn't just walk away on its own."

"Did you invite me here to interrogate me? Was that charming principal routine an act to get me out here?" Her voice rose in the quiet and she struggled to bring it back down. "I don't know what happened. I don't know where Tori is. I spent the afternoon calling hospitals as far away as
Los Angeles and she's not at any of them. It's as if she's just disappeared and I'm the only one who doesn't think it's because she wanted to."

Craig was shaking his head. "Tess—I'm sorry. The last thing I meant was to upset you."

Tess glanced at Caitlin. Her niece seemed absorbed with the fish, but Tess sensed she was listening. She took another drink, letting the harsh coolness of the rum slide down her throat.

"I swear, Tess, all I wanted was to take both of our minds off all this. I guess that's just not possible, though. Not with all the uncertainties."

"I just don't know why everyone is so quick to think she'd just up and leave her daughter. She loves Caitlin."

"Of course she does. No one is questioning that, Tess." Craig took a long drink of his beer. "It's the small town gossip—there's no getting away from it. My dad dying and Tori...vanishing is the most exciting thing to happen here since the church burned down years ago. Everyone has an opinion—My brother thinks the sheriff is blowing it all out of proportion just to add some spice to his life."

"Could that be true?"

"No. Grant's just looking out for his own interests. He doesn't want the ranch tied up in probate by a lengthy investigation." He paused and took another drink of his beer. "Or maybe he doesn't want the investigation for other reasons."

Tess frowned. "What other reasons?"

"Hard to tell with Grant. Could be anything." Bitterness etched lines in his face. "He has a lot at stake."

"You're talking in circles, Craig."

"Grant gets the ranch. That's all he's ever wanted."

Tess stared at him, as bewildered by his words as she was stunned by the intensity behind them.

"There I go again. I'm sorry. I really am. Grant is like a hot button with me. He hasn't been back that long and….we're having to learn how to live together, in the same town anyway, all over again."

Cece appeared at their table with a beaming smile and hands full of plates. "Hope you're hungry."

They ate in silence. At least Craig and Caitlin ate. Tess felt suddenly sick to her stomach. The rum had begun to burn and she just wanted out. She wanted to feel the cold rain on her face. She wanted to breathe air that hadn't steamed with the scent of beef.

"Has anyone thought to call friends Tori might have contacted in...where was it she was living before?" Craig asked between bites.

"
Los Angeles. She wasn't there long enough to make friends. I've called everyone else I can think of, but they haven't heard from her. Before that she was in Salt Lake. And before that Ohio."