The Right Time (9 page)

After they returned to the bungalow, everyone washed up and started to head over to the dining room for lunch. Hennessy caught Townsend’s eye and said, “I’ve ordered lunch to be delivered here. I’d like to talk with you privately.”

“Now what?” Townsend asked, falling onto the sofa. She seemed completely unconcerned. Total innocence.

“It can wait for a few minutes. Just relax while I go get the sand off myself.”

When she returned, Townsend was already digging into her lunch, her appetite much improved from when she’d arrived the previous weekend. Hennessy sat next to her and arranged her sandwich, then took a big bite. “Mmm…delicious.”

“Out with it, Chief. What’d I do this time?”

Either she had pretty severe memory loss, or she thought Hennessy was half blind. “Even though I didn’t conduct a strip search—and maybe I should have, I don’t remember seeing that mark on your neck before. I’d like to know who gave it to you.”

Townsend’s memory seemed to come back in a flash. Along with her constant friend—rage. “Why? So you can get one for yourself?”

“No, thanks. I don’t have to prove that someone finds me desirable enough to kiss.” She winced, knowing that was too harsh, but sometimes she couldn’t stop herself. Townsend was a master at getting under her skin.

But Hennessy’s smart remark received only a shrug. That seemed to be the rule. Comments that would render most girls indignant rolled right off her back. Like she was inured to most insults. “I don’t have to tell you who I’m fooling around with. I read that ridiculous list of rules, and it doesn’t say a damned thing about that.”

“No, but it does say a camper is prohibited from harassing or abusing another camper in any way. I want to make sure you’re not forcing one of the other girls to do something she’s not ready for.”

That got in. “Are you accusing me of molesting one of these little creeps?” She leapt to her feet, her lunch hitting the floor as she did. “Go fuck yourself, Hennessy. I don’t have to force anyone to do me!”

She ran to her room and slammed the door. But Hennessy was right on her heels; she sat down on the end of the bed, and reached out to gently touch her leg. Townsend yanked it away, then kicked out hard with it, knocking Hennessy to the floor. “Get out of my room, or I’ll tell them you did it!”

Hennessy sat on the floor for a few minutes, stunned as well as stumped. She didn’t want to upset her any more than she already had, but she had to find out who Townsend had been with—particularly if it was a younger girl. She started to get up, but her hand came in contact with a cool, glass bottle. Pulling it from under the bed, she shook her head when she saw the label. “This is the cheapest gin known to man. My mother wouldn’t even drink this.” She paused, then told the truth, “Well, she would, but no one with an intact stomach lining would. Why on earth would you stoop to drinking something like this?” She stood up, and all at once it hit her. A calm settled over her, letting her words come out sure and slow. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“Take off your shirt.” Hennessy was all business now, determined and focused. Slowly, Townsend did so, holding the shirt to her breasts. “Let me see your chest.”

As she lowered the shirt, Hennessy took a quick look. Angry red marks surrounded a bruised nipple. If the wound had been an accident, it would have turned her stomach. Realizing the marks came from a bite filled her with images of finding the animal who’d done it and destroying him. Her voice shook with rage, but she controlled the volume, even though she wanted to shout, to scream. To wake this kid from her self-destructive nightmare. “Who did this to you?”

“Nobody you know,” Townsend said quietly.

“Did he rape you?”

A little of her haughty spark came back. “How do you know it was a guy? Lots of girls like to play rough.”

“The skin around your nipple is broken. None of the girls here did that to you. Please tell me.” She reached out and touched her shoulder, gripping it lightly. “Please.”

Townsend’s body shook. Something about this incident had gotten inside. “One of the guys who delivers laundry.”

“Did he rape you?” Hennessy’s gaze was unflinching, penetrating.

“No. He…he said he’d buy me a fifth every week if I’d…you know.”

Images of all sorts of violent, humiliating acts flooded her brain. If a girl let a stranger fist her for no gain, what would she do for booze? “I don’t know. Tell me.”

“I stopped him at the gate. He seemed kinda…sleazy. Guys like that are always good for a bottle. He said he’d keep me stocked if I’d blow him.”

Hennessy let out a breath, relieved that was all she’d done. Then she realized the facts didn’t add up. “Maybe you do it differently than we do in the South, but how does a man nearly bite your nipple off while you’re giving him head? The geometry doesn’t work. Now, please, tell me the truth.”

“I
am
telling the truth. I had to let him paw me to get him hard,” she snapped. “You’d think an underage girl would do the trick, but no, he had to suck and bite on me for ten minutes in the cab of that truck. Sick bastard. What sort of creep can’t get hot without making a girl scream?”

Sick to her stomach and shaking with disgust, Hennessy stood and handed Townsend’s shirt back to her. “Get dressed. We’re going to go pay a visit to Mary Ann.”

Gleefully, she crowed, “Finally! My ticket out of this dump.”

“No chance. First we call the police. After that, we’ll call your parents. Next, you’re going to have to see the doctor.” Just saying the words made her a little weak in the knees. She dropped to the bed, locking her gaze on Townsend’s. “I don’t believe you weren’t raped.”

“I wasn’t! I told him what I wanted, and we agreed on a price.”

“A price,” Hennessy muttered, torn between pity and revulsion.

“I suggested the blow job,” Townsend said. “And I wouldn’t have had to do it if you hadn’t taken my money away!”

That hurt, but only for a moment. If Townsend had money, she’d probably drink herself into a coma again. Making it harder for her to drink was
not
something Hennessy was going to feel guilty about. “What he did was a crime,” she said softly. “The fact that you suggested it won’t matter to a judge. But you might want to think about the impact you have on other people’s lives when you pull them into your games.” She took a breath and told the truth. She had to—for Townsend. “What if he’d never done anything like that before? What if he never would have acted on those sick instincts? He’ll go to jail—which is where he belongs—but…” Hennessy clamped her mouth shut. Abusing a child was a crime. There were no two ways about it. But a lot of people had darkness hidden inside. It wasn’t right to yank it out of them. Townsend knew better. She
had
to. Looking at her, while sitting so close to each other on the bed, Townsend’s darting eyes showed a hint of discomfort or maybe even guilt. Hennessy prayed it was guilt. If Townsend could learn to think of other people as more than just pawns she could use to feed her habit—she might have a chance.

They were unable to reach Mrs. Bartley, but Mary Ann left a message. Townsend claimed not to have a number for her father, which spoke volumes in Hennessy’s book.

The ride to the doctor wasn’t long, but even with four of them in the car, Mary Ann, Destiny, Hennessy and Townsend, not a word was spoken.

Hennessy didn’t want to admit how relieved she was when Townsend refused her offer to go into the examining room with her. Torn between anger and pity, she wasn’t the kind of support the kid needed right now.

Destiny put an arm around her shoulders and Hennessy surprised herself by starting to shed silent tears. In seconds, Mary Ann was crouched in front of her, holding both her hands. “I know you did your best, honey,” she soothed. “But this is taking too much out of you. I don’t want to ruin your summer. We’ll move her over to Spoonbill.”

“No,” she croaked, sniffling while she wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. “I want to keep her.”

“Brianna’s got an easy bunch. I already asked, and she’s up for the challenge.”

“Please don’t,” Hennessy said, her voice getting more forceful. “The last thing Townsend needs is to be tossed from cabin to cabin.”

“But you’re not her therapist,” Mary Ann reminded her gently. Her gaze was so warm, so concerned. The emotions that Hennessy saw in her eyes were enough to make her start crying again. But she had to show she was mature enough to handle this.

“I know that. I truly do. But I think I can be her friend.” She gripped Mary Ann’s hands tightly. “I don’t think she has anyone else she can say that about.”

Destiny tightened her hug, pulling Hennessy toward her. She smelled like honeysuckle, and her pillowy breasts made Hennessy want to sit on her lap for a long cuddle. “Are you sure?” Destiny asked. “I feel like I should have been much more involved. Have I let you down?”

“Not at all,” she insisted, her gaze traveling from one woman to the next. “Maybe I’ve tried to do too much on my own, but that’s been my choice.”

Mary Ann nodded, then released Hennessy’s hands and sat back down on her own chair. “If she stays, she can stay in Sandpiper. But since we haven’t talked to her parents…”

“If they want her to go home, that’s their choice,” Hennessy said. “But if she stays here, I want her in my cabin.”

The day had been torturously long, and Hennessy was ready for bed by nine. She sat on the edge of Townsend’s bed, gazing at her with nothing but empathy. “I spoke to Mary Ann while you were making your statement to the police. We both think you need more help than we can give you. I found an AA meeting here on the island that’s primarily for teenaged alcoholics. You and I are going tomorrow night.”

Her head was shaking while Hennessy was still talking. “You can’t make me go. I’m not under court order.” She showed a smile that bore too much pride for Hennessy’s comfort. “I already satisfied the requirements for the juvenile court judge who made me go last year.”

Seeing the flinty, defiant gaze peering up at her, Hennessy knew she was making the right choice. She had to set limits, and stick to them. “You’re right. I can’t carry you in and strap you to the chair, but I’m going to take every privilege away until you agree. No more TV, no more phone calls, and no more internet. You can either sit in this room alone every night, or you can go to the meeting.”

Townsend looked like a trapped animal. Eyes darting, mind reeling as she tried to think of some way out. But that lasted for just a few moments. Then she collapsed and stared up at the ceiling. “You can make me go. But you can’t make me listen, and you can’t make me talk.”

Hennessy stood and looked down at her. A flash of pain, or fear, or something she couldn’t name made her features twitch briefly. Long, straight, blonde hair nearly glowed in the lamplight. Head cocked, eyes blinking slowly, she looked a little like a child waiting for a bedtime story. A scared—no, terrified child hiding behind those worldly, suspicious eyes. Hennessy was as sure of that as she was of anything. But how did you help a kid so bent on self-destruction? If she had the answer to that, she wouldn’t have a mamma living on nothing but handouts and hard liquor.

It wasn’t even seven
a.m., but Hennessy and Mary Ann stood in her office, the tension in the room so thick it felt like fog. The phone was on speaker, and Hennessy stared at the device, as if she might better understand the words that came from it if only she could see inside.

“I think you should let Townsend decide whether she wants to press charges against the man,” Miranda Bartley said, her affect so cool, so matter-of-fact that Hennessy was sure the woman didn’t truly understand the situation. “It certainly sounds like she lured him into it.”

Now Mary Ann’s pale eyes locked onto the phone, probably trying the same ineffective trick Hennessy was using. “She probably did, but it’s still a felony, Mrs. Bartley. I don’t think Townsend gets to choose whether to pursue it. The police are already involved.”

“Oh, of course she does. If you tell the district attorney that she won’t testify, they don’t have a case. We’ve been through this type of thing before. You can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”