The Game of Denial (25 page)

Tully rubbed the side of his face. "I don't give a damn what those people do unless it involves my family. Dad's not here to protect--"

"Don't you dare bring your father into this, Tully Chase. You don't know a damn thing about him. All any of you know is what I've told you."

"I know he wasn't some pervert like your "˜friend' Mrs. Carmichael!"

Frustrated with years of hiding the truth Evey faced her son. "He was a different kind of pervert," she said. "He was a monster."

"That's a fucking lie! He..."

Tears hovered in Evey's eyes. Her lips trembled as she spoke. "He wasn't the man I led you all to believe. A child should never have to know certain things about their parents. Les hurt us all in his own way. Joan Carmichael is a decent person who would never do anything to harm our family. And neither would I."

"She's a deviant piece of trash who thinks because she has money she's better than the rest of us. I've seen the way she looks at you." Tully shook his head. "And don't think I haven't seen you look at her either. Just the thought of it disgusts me."

Evey looked across the front seat, her eyes hardening. "Either turn this car around or I'll get out and walk back."

Tully laughed. "It's freezing outside," he said, shaking his head. "Don't be stupid."

"Pull over!"

Tully glared at his mother and pulled onto the shoulder, braking so hard the car slid several feet.

"I'm ashamed to call you my son. My son would never say such things," Evey said, her face red with anger as she released her seat belt and stepped out of the car. "You don't know me even after living with me the last twenty years. And you never knew the man your father was. I hope you never will." A cold, light wind whipped through Evey's hair. She slammed the door so hard she almost slipped and fell, but caught herself. She began taking long strides in the opposite direction.

Tully got out of the car and stood on the running board. "Come back, Mom! I'll take you home!" he yelled, but she ignored him, drew her coat more tightly around her body, and shoved her hands in her pockets. The tires of the Suburban spit gravel onto the road as Tully stomped on the accelerator and fish-tailed onto the main road.

Evey remembered passing a combination gas station and convenience store that she thought was about a mile or so back at the intersection for the main highway. She wasn't thrilled when large wet flakes of snow began falling, but she had been out in worse weather over many winters. The fields on either side of the highway would be pristine in another hour or so. Good places to make snow angels, she thought with a smile.

"MAYBE YOU SHOULD call, Brad," Fran said as she and Joan cleared the table after dinner.

"They probably just got a late start," Brad said, downing the last of his drink.

"Call Ralph to see so we can stop worrying, please."

"We'll clean up the kitchen, Fran," Joan said. "Then we should get to the hotel before the weather gets any worse."

Fran nodded and joined Brad in the living room as he made the call. The phone rang several times before someone picked up the other end. "Ralph? This is Brad." He smiled and nodded at whatever was said. "I understand. The horses always come first. Uh, listen Ralph, what time did Mom and Tully leave the farm heading this way?" A look of surprise crossed Brad's face and he looked at Fran. "Really? We're a little concerned because they haven't arrived here yet. Has Mom called you?"

He shook his head at Fran, who was now perched on the arm of his chair, her arm across his shoulders. "They might have stopped somewhere along the way because of the weather. There aren't that many places between here and there. I'll contact them." He nodded. "I'll call you back as soon as I know something. You do the same, okay?"

Brad stood and went to his computer. "Sweetheart, would you check for hotel or motel listings between here and the farm. Ralph said they left right after lunch. They should have been here hours ago."

"Is everything all right?" Joan asked as she walked out of the kitchen drying her hands.

"Evey and Tully are missing," Fran answered as she wrote down a list of phone numbers on a pad.

Joan felt her heart stop in her chest and sucked in a breath. "I'll contact hospitals in the area and the highway patrol," she said calmly. "Have you tried Evey's cell phone?"

"Brad's trying it now," Fran said. Her husband was sitting in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his forehead.

"She would call if she could," Fran said, worry written on her face.

Joan turned to Monica. "Honey, can you get some of the numbers from Fran and call them?"

"Of course," Monica said.

In between calls to any place they could think of, Brad's phone rang. He snatched it up quickly. "Ralph! Have they come back yet?" Brad sat up and said. "Call the sheriff's department and have them begin a search. I'll start that way as soon as I hang up." Brad stood and opened the small living room closet, pulling out his coat. He glanced at Fran and Joan. "Ralph's calling the sheriff. I have to get down there."

"We'll go with you," Joan said. When Brad opened his mouth to protest, she stopped him with a look. She held Monica's coat for her and slipped into her own as they followed Brad to his vehicle.

Driving conditions made it difficult to make much speed and their unspoken concerns kept the inside of the vehicle quiet. Joan felt a bead of nervous perspiration trickle down her back. They all jumped when a shrill sound broke the silence. Brad grabbed his cell phone. "Hello," he snapped. His eyebrows lowered into a frown. "He's where? I'll be there in half an hour," Brad said as he accelerated.

"What is it?" Fran asked.

"They found Mom's car," he answered through gritted teeth.

"Thank God," Joan said as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mom wasn't in it."

As quickly as her hopes had soared they were dashed. "What about Tully?"

"Oh, they found him," Brad seethed.

They saw the familiar Suburban as soon as they pulled into the parking lot of Mo's Barn. Joan, Monica, and Fran followed Brad as he ran inside. He stopped long enough for his eyes to adjust before seeing two sheriff's deputies standing on either side of Tully, who was seated at the bar. Brad rushed toward them, the anger building inside of him. Before anyone could stop him he grabbed Tully's shirt and yanked him from the barstool. "Where is she?" Brad yelled.

"Hey, man, what're you doing here?" Tully slurred. He looked over Brad's shoulder and saw the three women. He looked back at his brother. "I see you brought the perv with you." A smile split his face and he barked out a laugh. "Mom'll be glad."

Brad tightened his grip on Tully shirt and shook him violently, almost knocking him down. "Where's Mom?" he shouted.

Tully tried to push Brad away. "Home, I guess. We had a fight. She hit me, man."

"She's not at home. I called Ralph."

Tully started to turn around to reach his drink, but Brad backhanded him, splitting his lip. "Where is she?"

Tully wiped at the blood oozing from his mouth. "She got out of the car and was gonna walk home."

"You left her out there alone in a fucking blizzard?" Fran asked.

"She likes snow." Tully laughed, forgetting his lip. "Remember how she used to get us to make those stupid snow angels? She still does that shit."

"Where did she get out of the car?" Brad released Tully's shirt and lowered his voice to a calmer tone. "Think, Tully."

Tully scratched his disheveled hair and shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe three or four miles after the turn-off for the highway."

Brad saw one of the deputies talking rapidly into the microphone on his coat collar.

"How long ago, Tully?" Brad asked. "It's important."

"She called me a bigot, Brad."

"She's right," Brad said as he shoved Tully away. He turned back toward Fran who wrapped her arms around her husband in a solid embrace.

"We'll find her, baby," she said.

A firm hand landed on Brad's shoulder. "We have cars out, Mr. Chase. We'll find her."

"We'll be at the farm," Brad said. He looked back at Tully. "I'll take my brother with us."

"Do you want to press charges? It's willful disregard," the deputy said.

"I know, but I need to talk to him."

JOAN DROVE EVEY'S Suburban and followed Brad back to the farm. As soon as they stopped at the side of the house, Ralph came out and helped get Tully inside. He led Tully to the kitchen table and dropped him in a chair before pouring a large mug of black coffee and setting it in front of him. "Drink it," he ordered in a tone that left no room for argument.

Brad and the others made their way into the living room and slumped into chairs. Brad leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Joan stared into the dead ashes from the last fire in the fireplace. Monica perched on the arm of Joan's chair and lightly rubbed her shoulders. Eventually, Ralph carried an armful of kindling and logs into the room and started another fire.

"What happened?" Ralph asked while he worked on the fire.

"Not sure," Brad said. "Apparently Tully and Mom got into an argument. She got out of the car and started walking home. That's all we could get out of Tully. The Sheriff's Department is looking for her."

"Should we call Beth? Let her know what's happened," Fran said.

"Not until we know something more tangible," Brad said. "No sense in worrying her if it turns out to be nothing serious."

"What were they fighting about?" Ralph asked.

"I have no idea. Is there more coffee?" Brad asked.

Ralph set the fireplace poker down and walked back into the kitchen. The sound of his angry voice brought them to their feet once again. When they entered the kitchen Ralph had Tully pressed against the wall and his forearm against the boy's throat. Tully was struggling to relieve the pressure.

"I didn't! I didn't!" Tully insisted. "She hit me. I almost wrecked the damn car. Let go!"

"Ralph!" Brad said loudly. "Let him go!"

"You're just like your worthless daddy, boy," Ralph snarled as he pushed away from Tully. He looked at Brad, but couldn't meet his eyes. He wiped his hand over his face as he returned to the front room and knelt by the fireplace, watching the flames as they curled around and took hold of the logs.

Brad stood behind the Ralph. "You didn't even know my father," Brad said. "He died before you came here."

"I knew him," Ralph repeated. "I'm not real proud that I used to call him my friend, but I did." He stood and looked at Brad. "About a year after he was killed, I saw that your Mama was in trouble out here, financially. She just needed a little help. So I wandered by one day and offered to lend a hand. A woman looking after three small children couldn't do everything she was trying to do. And I figured my sister would want me to do it."

"Your sister?"

"Your Mama's been hiding the truth from you kids for years. I guess she's got her reasons, but now because of Ms. Carmichael the chickens have come home to roost, I reckon. You might want to sit down because this could take a while." Ralph sat on the stone hearth that surrounded the fireplace. "Tully needs to hear this, too."

Brad led Tully into the living room and shoved him into a chair. He glared at Joan and Monica as he rearranged his body. "Do they have to be here?" he spat. "They're not members of this family."

"We can both leave if you want," Joan said.

Brad took Fran's hand. "No. I want you to stay." He leaned forward to look at Joan. "Both of you."

"Then I'm outta here," Tully announced.

"Sit down and shut the fuck up," Brad barked. "You might not think so, but I can still kick your ass if I have to."

Tully plopped down in his seat and sighed loudly. "So talk, old man," he said dismissively.

Ralph took a deep breath before speaking. "I hope Miz Evey will forgive me for this," he said almost to himself. "You already know this place belonged to your granddaddy back in the day. He was a tough old bastard. He never was happy that his only kid was a girl, your mama. But he seemed pretty proud when she started to make a name for herself on the circuit. He always thought she could do better if she worked harder. So he hooked her up with a traveling trainer who worked the circuit. That was my sister, really my half-sister, Carlene Frazier." He shook his head and smiled. "Carly, she loved horses. She sometimes hired me to help her keep up the stables wherever she was workin'. Took as good a care of me as she could. I'm a few years older than her and should've been the one lookin' after her. But I didn't. There were too many things that distracted me back then, women, booze, the usual things all stupid young men like. Anyway, Carly hooked up with your granddaddy somehow and agreed to work with your mama. Try to fix a few things she was havin' problems with."

"So what?" Tully asked.

"About the time me and Carly got here, your daddy was already working in the area. Your granddaddy had a horse no one could ride. A really rank stallion. So Les was hired and recruited me to help him a few times. He could ride, that's for damn sure. He was a good-looking man and the ladies loved him. Him and me spent a lot of time together striking up conversations with any gal who looked available and willin'." Ralph looked at his audience. "Your mama wasn't one of them. Always was a little stand-offish, but friendly. She spent most of her time working with Carly. Just about every free minute. I tried to ignore what I thought I was seeing, the innocent little touches when Carly helped Evey adjust her legs in the stirrups, the hugs when something worked well, the looks when one of them watched the other walk away. I don't really know what happened, but it wasn't long before your granddaddy got real steamed about something. He paid Les to take care of it, make it go away."

Ralph looked down at the floor and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'm ashamed to say I was a part of what happened next." He drew in a deep breath. "Me and Les and another wrangler on the circuit dragged Carly out of her bunk late one night after she got in from working the stables. We was wearing masks, like the cowards we were, and whipped the tar out of her. She fought like a trapped animal, but she got the message. Les told her the next time Evey might be roughed up instead of her. He made sure before she passed out that she got the message. Carly was gone before the sun come up the next day."