No Way Home (34 page)

“Mom,” Grayson said abruptly. “Do we have to wait for Dad? I’m really hungry now.”

“Well, I thought we would all eat together. Kind of a reunion dinner,” she said.

“Look, you know what he’s like when he gets started. He could be gone for hours. I don’t really feel like waiting.”

Lillie’s stomach tightened. So much for reunions. “All right,” she said. “If you’re that hungry.”

“Can I take it to my room?” he asked.

“No, Grayson,” she said sharply, hurt that he seemed to want to get away from her. “You can eat right here at the table. Don’t be dragging food all over the house.”

Grayson shrugged, picked up a plate, and filled it by the stove. Lillie sat down at the table with her glass of wine. “I’ll wait for your father,” she said.

The boy sat down opposite her and began to eat.

Lillie rolled the wine around in her glass, staring into it. After a minute she said a little spitefully, “If you knew Tyler was like that, how come you went down to the Arches that night?”

Grayson raised his eyes to the ceiling and then gave his mother a patient, long-suffering look. “He had some moonshine. You know all this,” he said. “We went down there to try it.”

“But who asked Michele to come along? You or him?”

Grayson resumed eating. “Neither,” he said through a mouthful of chicken. “She just tagged along.”

“But Reverend Davis saw her walking down there alone.”

“Reverend Davis,” he scoffed. “Look, we were meeting there. I don’t remember who showed up when.”

“Grayson, don’t be smart about this. I mean, this may all be old business to you, but try to remember that I just found out about this a day ago. I still have a lot of questions in my mind,” Lillie insisted.

A strange expression came over Grayson’s face as he stared down into his plate. For a minute she thought she had touched a nerve, that he was going to lash out at her. Then, suddenly, he looked up and said, “Mom, there are cucumbers in this salad. You know I don’t like cucumbers.”

Lillie stared at him. “Grayson, why are you talking about cucumbers?”

Grayson lifted up a limp cucumber slice with a look of distaste on his face. “I’ve told you again and again I don’t like them,” he said.

Lillie got up from the table and stood with her back to him, staring out the window, as Grayson removed the offending cucumber slices from his salad and pushed them off his plate. When he was satisfied that his salad was free of the unwanted cucumbers, he looked up at her. “Everything else is good,” he said encouragingly.

Lillie turned and studied him soberly. She had read enough articles and seen enough TV programs and experienced enough of life to know that people often denied their feelings and tried to bury them under a normal facade, and that sometimes only the help of a psychiatrist could give them relief. She could not help but wonder if maybe that was the answer for her son. Outwardly he seemed perfectly fine, but she was his mother, and she could not take any chances with his welfare. There were people right here in Cress County who might help. She could get a referral from Mary Dean over at the hospital.

“Mom, stop staring at me,” he complained. “I’m trying to eat.”

“Grayson,” she said, “I was just thinking that maybe what we ought to do is find someone for you to talk to— you know, in confidence. A professional…to help you deal with this whole thing.”

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? A shrink?”

“Honey, you have been through a terrible experience…”

Grayson clenched his fork in his fist. “I’m fine,” he said evenly. “I don’t need to talk to anyone. You’re making a problem where there isn’t one.”

Lillie sat back down at the table. “Grayson, what you went through…to see your own sister cut down. And then to have to live with that knowledge…in secret. It was a terrible thing.” Her eyes filled as she spoke. “That Founders Day was the worst day of your life. Of all our lives…”

Grayson smiled and patted her arm. “Hey, it wasn’t all bad. I won the ball game, didn’t I?”

Lillie jerked her arm away from his hand as if he had burned it.

“Hey, Mom, I’m just kidding,” he said, noting the stunned expression on her face. “Don’t get all bent out of shape.”

At that moment the phone rang. Lillie turned and started down the hall, dimly aware of a desire to silence it, to stop the ringing in her head. She felt numb and slightly ill all over, as if she had pulled open a drawer and seen a rat staring up at her. It might turn and dart off in an instant, and she might shut the drawer and tell herself that it would never come back, but she could not pretend that she had not seen it.

“Come on, Mom,” he said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why did you say it?” Lillie cried, her voice shaking. She did not give him a chance to answer. She picked up the phone, grateful for the distraction.

Pink was nearly hysterical on the other end. She could tell it was him, but she could not understand his words.

“What is it, Pink?” she said. “I can’t hear you.”

“Tyler,” Pink blurted out. “He’s dead. They just found him.”

“Tyler Ansley?” Lillie’s legs buckled beneath her and she sank down on the seat of the chair beside the phone table. “It can’t be. What are you talking about? What happened?”

Her body was abuzz with shock. She was vaguely aware that Grayson had come into the living room and was standing in the doorway, his whole body poised in a tense attitude of interest.

Lillie glanced up at him, her indignation dissolved by this news, automatically grateful that he was safe and there with her. That it was not her son who was dead.

“At the Millraney farm,” Pink cried. “I was showing the place. He’s been murdered, Lillie. Somebody pounded his head for him with a hammer.”

“Oh, my God!” Lillie exclaimed. “Oh, my God. Does Royce know? At Millraney’s? What was he doing there? Jordan said that he ran away.”

“Royce was here. He’s the one who found him. Lillie, I can’t talk. I just wanted you and Grayson to know. He’s there with you, isn’t he?”

Lillie gazed at her son who was standing in the doorway. His eyes were worried and questioning. He looked young and vulnerable to her as he waited for her to explain. “Yes, he’s here,” she said faintly. “Oh, God. This is so terrible. Who do they think…?”

“Killed him?” Pink finished. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“What do you mean?” Lillie asked.

“Jordan Hill. Who else? He goes after Tyler, and suddenly Tyler disappears and then turns up dead. He was out to get him, Lillie.”

“Stop it, Pink, that’s ridiculous,” Lillie cried. “Jordan would never—”

“Look, Lillie, I can’t stay on this line.”

“No, Pink, that’s impossible. You have to tell Royce.”

Pink chuckled. “Hey, I’m not telling Royce anything. He’s gone, anyway. He left here a little while ago with blood in his eyes.”

“He didn’t—” Lillie heard the phone click. “Not Jordan.”

Lillie sat with the receiver in her hand, and then she let it drop into her lap. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Tyler dead. Murdered. It couldn’t be. Her hands were icy cold. She fumbled with the receiver to replace it on the hook.

“What is it?” Grayson asked. “What’s going on?”

Lillie looked up at him feeling dazed and frightened. “Tyler Ansley. He’s dead. He’s been murdered.” Her voice was incredulous.

“I gathered that.”

Lillie stared at her son. “I’m afraid that Royce has the idea that Jordan did it.”

“Well, what if he did?” Grayson said with a shrug. “Good riddance, I say. He deserved it.”

“Grayson!” Lillie exclaimed.

“Hey, look. He killed Michele, remember. Why should anybody be surprised if Tyler got himself killed? He was always in trouble. He was always drunk, hanging out with sleazy guys. It could have been anyone that did him in. Maybe he was into drugs or something.”

Lillie nodded, reassured. “That’s right,” she said. “It’s crazy to point the finger at Jordan. Royce is just upset. He’s lost his child.” She went over to the front window and looked outside the house. There was no one out there. Only the night sounds of the rustling trees, a faraway train whistle, and the occasional rumble of a passing car. “Poor Royce.”

“This could be messy though,” Grayson went on. “I mean, if he starts putting the pressure on Jordan, Jordan may decide not to keep quiet after all. Tit for tat.”

“He promised me,” Lillie said vaguely.

“Yeah, but if he wants to make trouble for us, he can do it.”

“If he said he won’t, then he won’t. Can’t you think of anyone but yourself?” Lillie said irritably, still staring out into the night. “Tyler is dead. I still can’t quite believe it. Well, Jordan didn’t do it, so there’s no way they can arrest him. Royce just probably needs someone to blame right now.” She spoke calmly, but in her heart she knew how desperate Royce must be feeling. She just prayed that he did not catch up to Jordan in that state of mind. “It must have been such a shock,” Lillie said, “finding his child like that.”

“Where’d they find him?” Grayson asked offhandedly. “I heard you say something about the Millraney place?”

“Yes,” said Lillie. “Your father was out there showing the place to some clients and they discovered him.”

“Leave it to Dad,” said Grayson.

“Well, it’s hardly your father’s doing.”

“I know. But he couldn’t just show them the house and leave well enough alone. He has to show them the well too. Like that’s going to make them want to buy the place.”

Lillie turned and stared at her son.

Grayson looked at her questioningly, his eyebrows raised.

All the color had drained from Lillie’s face. She was squinting at Grayson as if her vision were blurred. Her mouth hung open like a gash.

“What?” Grayson cried. “You want me to pretend I’m sorry about it? I’m not. He was a creep. He deserved it.”

“What do you mean about the well?” she said.

Their eyes locked, and his widened, and then he looked away, silently scanning the room. “The phone,” he said triumphantly. “You mentioned it when you were talking to Dad. You probably don’t remember.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said slowly. “He didn’t say anything about a well. I didn’t know there was a well.”

“I don’t know,” Grayson said irritably. “I must have just imagined it. But I’m sure you said it.”

The room reeled around her. She ordered her mind to be a blank, but she could not stop the thought that was mushrooming inside her head. An icy feeling of fear clutched her heart, squeezed it.

“Grayson,” she whispered. “You have to tell me the truth. You didn’t have anything to do with this?”

Grayson looked at her in frustration, as if she were a dimwitted child. “Of course not. Are you going to start hounding me about this now?”

“If you did, you must tell me.”

“I told you. No. How many ways do I have to say it?”

“Son, I—I want to believe you. But why did you say that about the well?”

Grayson stared at her stonily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say anything about the well. It’s all in your head.”

Lillie was about to cry out in protest and then she stopped herself. “All right,” she said, her voice shaking. “We’ll settle this. I’ll just call the sheriff’s office and ask where they found the body.”

“No, you don’t,” Grayson barked, stepping in front of her. “Just get back.”

As he blocked her way to the phone, Lillie was suddenly aware, as if for the first time, of his size and his strength. He was not a child. He was a man. An angry man. Capable of hurting her if he chose to. She forced the awful thought from her mind. This was her son.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she said. “Get out of my way.”

Grayson hesitated for a moment and then, almost to her surprise, he gave way, letting her pass. He stared into the distance, as if preoccupied with something.

Lillie glanced at him and then she walked unsteadily toward the phone. Her insides were jumping wildly, but she tried to appear calm and resolute. Grayson had turned away from her and kneaded his fist with his other hand. “All right,” he said impatiently. “All right. Put it back. You don’t have to call them.”

Lillie gripped the receiver. “Why?” she asked faintly, without looking at him.

“Because…he was in the well.”

There was a roaring in her head. “How do you know?” she said.

“How do you think?” he asked.

“Oh, my God.”

“You wanted me to tell you. So I’m telling you,” he said angrily.

“Oh, God, no,” Lillie breathed.

Grayson circled her, forcing her to look at him. “Wait a minute, Mom. Don’t act now like it’s some tragic thing. It’s Tyler we’re talking about. It’s what you wanted me to do. Wasn’t it?” He looked at her imploringly. “Wasn’t it, Mom?”

She stared at him, her heart thudding wildly in her chest, her face bright, as if it had been seared.

“Avenge Michele,” he cried. “That’s what you wanted. You practically accused me because I didn’t do it before. That is what you wanted. Don’t deny it. If I did it, I did it for you. And for Dad.”

Lillie’s legs wobbled, and she grabbed the back of Pink’s chair for support. God help me, she thought over and over. Did I do this? Is this what I made him believe? Tears filled her eyes and she began to shake her head. “No, darling, no.”

Grayson began to pace back and forth across the room. “This morning, after Dad left,” he said, “Tyler called me.

He wanted to meet me. At first I didn’t want to see him but then I thought, well, maybe I should. Here’s my chance. I’ll do it. I’ll do what they want. So they can be proud of me again. So that there will be some justice for Michele.”

“You killed him?” Lillie whispered.

“He killed Michele,” Grayson cried.

“Oh, baby, I know I said he should be punished.” Lillie moaned. “But when I said that I didn’t mean…not to take his life. That was never what I meant.”

“Wait a minute,” Grayson protested. “You can’t start saying that now. You were the one who wanted an eye for an eye. You were screaming at me, saying I was a coward. So, when he came back I decided I’d make him pay, for once and for all.”

Lillie’s head was pounding. Her mouth was almost too dry to form the words. “Darling, oh, God, I was angry and I yelled at you. And I said some things in anger…but I never…I would never want you to kill another human being. Not for any reason, my God.” She tried not to picture him dealing the blows.