Trashy (16 page)

Buck

Blue lights flashing through our small window wake me. I try not to wake Shep and Vickie as I crawl to an upright position and peek through the shades. It’s then that the cops hit their sirens, followed by an ambulance, so my stealth was for nothing. Shep bolts upright, and after some complaining, Vickie’s up, too.

There are at least three marked cars pulling into Cedar Hills along with the ambulance. Gravel flies as they stop short in front of Anne’s trailer. Vickie lets out a little gasp and tucks into me. I hold her while Shep strokes her hair.

Honestly? I’m not too upset. That asshole can be locked up forever in my opinion. But then, instead of seeing Lloyd or Anne escorted out in cuffs, the cops are bringing in cameras. The flash of their bulbs is barely noticeable through the other trailer’s blinds, but we’re close enough to see.

“What’s going on?” Vickie murmurs. “Where’s Mama?”

The way the cops are beginning to move around the outside, flashlights out and searching around the house, makes my stomach drop. Shep and I have seen this once before. This is what they do when they’re looking for evidence.

“Shit,” Shep curses as he gets out of bed. He’s yanking on his jeans and checking his wallet. “This isn’t good, Buck.”

“What’s not good?” Vickie draws the covers up around her.

Shep’s already pulling on boots, but I stop him. “If you duck out now, they’ll see you. Why are you running now?”

Guilt skates across his features, and I ball my fists. There’s something his isn’t telling me. Vickie’s hand grabs my forearm. “What’s going on? What’s happened?” Her large, chocolate eyes are wide with fright. “Shep, where are you going?”

Sinking next to her, I drape an arm around her. Shep wrestles with telling me the truth and I glare. “Spit it out, man. I can’t help you if don’t know what’s going on.”

“Lloyd and I exchanged some words yesterday.”

My back stiffens. “Some words.”
Shep, what did you do
?

“Long story short: Mikey told Vickie that Lloyd’s still been mouthing off about pimping her out. So I went over to Lloyd’s and told him that if he touched her, I’d kill him.”

Gut twisting, I want to throttle him. “And of course the neighbors heard you.”

He nods. “They always do.”

Vickie’s been making these tiny whimpering sounds, but she’s a smart girl and sees where we’re going with this. Pulling away from me, she looks between the two of us. “Are you saying Lloyd’s
dead
?”

I don’t want to lie to her. “We don’t know, but if they were going to arrest him, they’d be gone by now.” Vickie flies from the bed and Shep and I follow her. “Vickie, where’re you--”

“I have to see if Mama is okay!” She’s grabbed the coat I bought her and is jerking it on, not bothering with pants. The coat’s long, so I don’t stop her when she goes out the door. When I was younger, I used to run to see if it was my parents every time the cops came. Before they left for good, I mean. Nothing I say could’ve stopped her.

“Shep, just come out with us. You’ll look less guilty if you’re there.” There’s an undercurrent to my tone that I don’t want to discuss.
You’ll look less guilty, but are you
? Quickly, I banish the thought. It’s mean and not true. Shep wouldn’t kill Lloyd. Not without telling me.

But he didn’t tell me about the fight, either.

I start out after her. “You coming?” Shep’s eyes are narrowed, and I can see the decisions he’s making on the fly. Finally, he nods. We step out into the chaos.

Vickie’s talking to a cop. It looks like Jake. He’s been on the force for as long as I can remember. His gaze flits to us and we walk over. As soon as I get close, I can see the blue lights are reflecting off Vickie’s wet face. She’s crying, her lower lip trembling. When I touch her shoulder she flings herself into me, arms wrapped tight around my waist. “She’s dead,” she wails. “They both are.”

The paramedics are carrying out the covered bodies as she tells me, the sheets staining red in places. They weren’t just dead. They were murdered.

“Nasty business,” Jake says, but his eyes are trained on Shep.

“What happened?” My voice is tight, and I’m trying to think about all of the implications this has for us and for our little family.

Trying to act casual, Jake shifts his weight and shrugs, but he’s not letting up on Shep. I know exactly what he’s thinking, because it’d been my first thought, too. “Can’t say much. We just got here and are looking around. Questioning the neighbors, you know? In fact, mind if I ask you a few questions?”

There are clumps of neighbors all around, too excited by the fuss to stay hidden in their homes. Cops are talking to them, and every now and then I can’t miss their faces and fingers pointing to Shep.

This is just like last time.

Only last time, Shep was a minor. He had his grandmother there as an alibi. Oh, and most important-- there were no bodies. It was only an assumed murder, but no case without corpses. This time there was definitely a case.

“Sure thing,” I offer. At this point, we’re fucked. If I answer questions and see what they’re considering, maybe I can save Shep. Maybe. “We didn’t see anything, though. We’ve been home all night.”

“All three of you?” Jake pulls out a pad and starts jotting notes down. He doesn’t need our names or occupations. He already knows because we all know everyone.

I nod. “I got home late. Pulled a long one with Jim. Probably got home around seven thirty? Vickie’s home all the time, and Shep’s home since the incident at the mine.”

“Yeah, I was there, too. Sorry, Shep, that must’ve been pretty scary.”

“It wasn’t a great fucking day, that’s for sure.” Shep’s so tense, unable to make eye contact, that I want to slap him. Hell, just looking at him now he looks guilty, and I know him. We were together in bed. He’d have had to sneak out real quiet in an old, creaky trailer to commit the murders. Hell, each square foot of the carpet in the hallway seemed eager to tattle when you just needed to take a piss.

“Shep,” I warn, hoping he picks up what I’m hinting at. “Jake’s just doing his job.”

Jake gives me a small smile, running a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah. I gotta ask. Speakin’ of which, Shep, I hear you had a bit of a run in with Lloyd.”

“I did.” Now Shep’s turned to Jake, like he’s daring him. I’m going to strangle him if he manages to walk home not in cuffs. “He was runnin’ his mouth about Vickie here, and I let him know that wasn’t going to work.”

“Were those your exact words?”

“Nope.”

“What were?”

Vickie’s starting to tremble in my arms. She knows what’s coming. “I told him if he talked about her, touched her, or thought about her wrong, I’d put him in the ground.”

Jake writes this down, but I’m worried. Is that a hint of a smile? The satisfaction of an open-shut murder case? “Well, Lloyd wasn’t always the most savory.”

“He was a malicious asshole who liked to whore his girlfriend,” Shep pushes.

I’m done. Glowering, I hug Vickie tighter. “Jake, does Vickie, I don’t know… need to identify the bodies or anything?”

“Naw, this ain’t like TV. It was Anne and Lloyd, no doubts there. You can look if you want, Vickie. For closure, I mean.”

She shakes her head and starts crying again. The cotton of my shirt is soaked with her tears, and I’m not wearing a coat like she is, so it feels icy. Good. I need to cool off because I’m about five seconds away from decking Shep.

“Sorry for your loss, Vickie,” Jake offers gently. Looking at Shep again, his mouth pulls in a grim line. “We’ll be bringing people from the park in for more questioning tomorrow. Best stick around for a few days.”

When Shep doesn’t answer, I do. “Will do, Jake. Good luck.”

Vickie stumbles when I start to direct her back to the trailer. I feel torn between needing to talk some goddamned sense into Shep and trying to comfort my girl, who just lost her mom. Yeah, her mom was a bitch. There’s no love lost there for me. But Vickie’s sweet. Forgiving. And while she’s been practically glowing since moving out of Anne’s trailer, I get it. I had to mourn my parents, too, and they were bastards.

Once we’re inside, Shep locks the door and leans against it, eyes shut. “Fuck, man.”

Escorting Vickie to the couch, I ease her out of her coat and help her sink into the cushions. “You weren’t exactly helping your case out there, Shep,” I mumble out of the side of my mouth. The blond of Vickie’s hair makes her tear-streaked face look paler. Dark purple circles are blooming under her brown eyes.

She’s getting ready for a serious crying jag.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you looked guilty as hell out there, Shep!” Standing, I wheel on him. “Your face all but said you did it!”

The temperature drops fast in the room. “You think I did?” There’s a menace to his voice I haven’t heard before.

Do I? Not really. Shep’s tough, and he’s had it hard. With the stress of the cave in, I know he’s been on edge. That combination of almost losing his life and then being stuck at home, forced to think about it instead of work, has made him a bit of an asshole. But the Shep I know is dangerous in a bar fight. He’s dangerous if you scratch his car. He ain’t murdering dangerous, I don’t think. “No, I don’t. But for fuck’s sake, you didn’t do yourself any favors with Jake!”

“Please,” he gripes. “They think I did it. This whole park, this whole fucking town thinks I’m a murderer. You just asked me not too long ago if I killed my parents. My
parents
, Buck! I was convicted for this shit before it even happened.”

I want to fight more, but Vickie’s wail stops us. “Stop it! Stop fighting, I can’t stand it.” We back off, but both of us are strung tight. There’s a tenuous quality to the moment that I despise, like we’re one second from snapping. “My mom’s dead,” she whispers, tucking into herself.

“Shep--” I pause, not knowing how to finish. Apologize? For what? For loving his stupid ass? For not wanting him to go down?

He shakes his head, forgiving me. Who knows what I did that needed forgiving, but for now, it feels like we’ll be okay. “Take Vickie to bed and see if y’all can catch some sleep.” He goes and grabs a beer from the fridge, the hiss as he pops the top as final as a gavel.

“What’re you gonna do?” He’s still too tense, and I’m afraid for him. For us.

“Watch TV. Can’t sleep now, and besides, they’ll come ask questions soon. Might as well be up and ready.”

“Wake us up if they do,” I warn. “I don’t want you facing them alone.”

“What would you do? Fight your way out?” He jokes. “But I’ll get you.”

Scooping Vickie up, I carry her to our bed. We lay down together. In the dark, her sobs and sniffles keep me company. My hand strokes her hair, her back. There aren’t any words that I think would make her feel better, so I just stay quiet. If I’m being truthful, I’m also listening, worried about Shep.

But the TV is on, and I can hear him settle in on the couch.

Before long, sleep comes.

Vickie

Shep’s gone. Buck is angry, cussing and punching the walls. I’m just worried. Last night I cried all I was going to for my mama. She’d hurt me too much for me to really miss her. But she didn’t deserve the end she got.

Now that I’m done mourning, though, I’m real worried about Shep. His Camaro is gone, and he left a note scrawled on the table that just says
“Take care of Vickie. Call you when I’m able.”

I am sitting on the couch and fingering the note while Buck rages. Finally, his anger wears me down. “Buck, stop.”

“Why would he run? Running just solidifies to the cops that he did it!”

“You heard him last night. He wasn’t wrong. They’re going to think he did it, no matter what. Maybe he’s just giving them time to look properly and find the real killer.”

Buck gives me a withering look. “Be real, Vickie. If the police think Shep did it, they aren’t going to spend their resources trying to find the real killer-- they’re going to be searching for him. This isn’t the TV. These guys don’t have special labs and shit.”

“Well, raging around isn’t helping Shep!”

“Shep doesn’t want help! If he did, he’d have stuck around. As it is, we may as well assume he did it, because he’s going to be locked away for it for a long time!”

I suck in air between my teeth. “You think he did it?”

“No! No.” He paces back and forth. “I mean, I wish I could be sure, but mostly I don’t think he did it.”

“Buck,” I admonish. “You
know
Shep. Know him better than anyone! He can’t be a killer! You knew him with his parents, and he was with us all night, and--”

He throws his hands up in defeat. Buck’s hair is disheveled, his stubble too long. He looks tired and ragged. I know I don’t look much better. It’s like we’re a little lost without Shep. “I get what you’re saying, Vickie. I’ve been having those same thoughts all night. My heart says he didn’t do it, but--”

“There are no ‘buts.’ Listen to your heart, Buck. It’s what brought us together, and that’s not a bad thing, right?”

“It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Unfolding my body from the couch, I go to embrace him. Drawing his face between my hands, my lips brush his. “Me too.”

“I’m scared it’s over,” he whispers.

I kiss him again. “It can’t be. We won’t let it. Go out and see if you can find him. I’ll stay here in case he calls, okay?”

Bucks grabs his keys and goes. If anyone can find Shep, it’s him. Besides, he’s just like Shep. He needs something to do when he’s upset.

Without him, the trailer feels empty. Wasn’t it just a week ago that I’d hoped for both of them to be out from under my feet? If I could take that wish back, I would. Instead, I start cleaning. I need to keep busy, too.

The trailer’s already pretty neat. I’ve been keeping it spotless since school ended. There’s not much to pick up, but there is a junk closet in the workout room that could be sorted. When Buck moved into the bedroom with me and Shep, he cleaned up his room for me. For Buck, that meant taking all his junk and cramming it in that closet.

Just so I have something to keep my hands busy, I head on back.

It’s a disaster. Several bottles and old magazines fall out when I open the door. Sighing, I get some trash bags and start pulling things out. A few hours later, I’ve got most of the garbage, the books (there weren’t many) and magazines (there were ton,and most of them had topless ladies). There were old t-shirts that I piled together to wash. Yearbooks that I’d leafed through. Their pictures had been exactly what I’d imagined.

Buck, wearing a camo hat in the photo and smiling as big as he could. His ears were too big for his head. Shep, his hair and eyes dark, looking every inch the brooding teenager. Buck’s yearbook was filled with signatures. No surprise, he’s so likeable. Shep’s was pretty empty, aside from some crude promises scrawled by Buck about the kind of girls they’d be nailing after graduation.

After that, the bottom of the closet emerged. It looked like it hadn’t seen light since, well, probably since Shep’s grandma had been living. Gross. Still, I got some cloths and some bleach and set to scrubbing the baseboards.

As I wiped away the filth, my cloth caught on something in the back of the closet. Unable to see well, I traced the area and, to my surprise, discovered a small cut out. Sticking my finger in it, I pulled a bit, and the panel fell away.

It was a small, hidden compartment.

Feeling around, I find a box. Holding my breath, I ease it out and sit cross-legged with it in my lap. It’s a small tin box, lid rusted on. It takes prying--a lot of prying-- to squeak the lid off.

Inside is a journal and an envelope. The journal’s cover has a hymn on it and cutesy little angels.
Definitely not Shep’s hidden stash
. This assumption is validated when I peek into the journal’s yellowed pages and see precise, looping cursive. The kind of handwriting they just don’t teach anymore.

Interest piqued, I start reading. It’s his grandmother’s journal. Most of it is about park gossip from long ago. My favorite entry is when Shep is born and she talks about how elated she is to be a grandma. Of course, it becomes clear quickly that she didn’t approve of his father, her son.

My smile starts to fade. The gossip dries up, and most of what she writes about is Shep’s early childhood. About how his mom would bring him over and they’d both be covered with bruises. Beatings aren’t out of place in the park. We’ve all known a neighbor or three who had to wear makeup and sunglasses for a weak. I’m not saying it’s right, just that it isn’t new around here.

Knowing it happened to Shep--my Shep-- though… it’s breaking my heart. There’re ink blots on the pages, places where old tears smeared the ink. Some are new, and I know they’re coming from me.

The journal ends abruptly. Cautiously, I flip through the last chunk of pages and find a final entry. The handwriting isn’t as precise. It’s still hers, but it’s jagged. Hurried looking. It’s tough to read, but once I start, I can’t stop.

In my defense, there’s no thing a momma won’t do for her baby. And in this case, my grandbaby, too.

I knew Carl’d been hitting Jeanine. Hard. Each time she brings Gil over, the black and blue is there, painting her skin, and it paints me, too. As a bad mother. Because Carl’s my boy, and he’s a wife beater, so what does that say about me?

But Jeanine asked for me to take Gil, and I said I would. She must not have told Carl, though. Because when I showed up to get Gil, Carl and Jeanine were having a fight. It was loud enough the neighbors heard, though it probably wasn’t the first time.

I tried to get Carl to stop. He was hitting her so hard. And this woman, this poor woman I let marry my son, she was just looking at me like there wasn’t a point in trying. Carl started choking her. Right there in front of me. My deepest shame is that I stood there and watched as he killed her, all the while crying and pleading to me for help. What did he think I’d do? How far does a mother’s love run?

It runs deep. Deep enough to save him from himself.

How could I kill my baby boy? I guess… I guess I just thought the best way to save him was to keep him from hurting. He was going to have to live with what he did to Jeanine, that poor sweet girl. I’m going to have to live with knowing I was too scared to stop him sooner. Her death’s on me, too, I guess. What a heavy weight I’ll carry now.

And there was Gil to think about, too. I don’t want Gil growing up like my Carl did. Too full of rage and no control. It would break me if he ended up hitting his wife, too.

Gil came in and saw what’d happened. I expected him to call the police. I should’ve made him call. But my son’s blood was on my hands, and I’m ashamed at how I froze.

He cleaned me up and told me he’d take care of it.

This is a confession, I guess. I doubt God’ll forgive me, but maybe he’ll forgive Gil. Maybe if I can raise him right, this won’t happen again.

She didn’t sign or date it. I doubt she ever looked at the journal again. Just needed a place to get her secret out, to protect Shep. Jesus.

Numb, I realize I’m holding proof in my hands that Shep’s no murderer. He helped her out, but it was so long ago, I don’t even know if they can charge him. Should I take it to the police? Call Buck?

Like her, I’m too stunned right now to do anything but think about what’s happened. The envelope has her handwriting, too, but it’s got Shep’s name on the front.

Gil

Inside are folded papers, thick and on heavy paper. The top is a note.

My Gil,

There are a lot of things I should’ve done different and can’t now. I didn’t give this to you because I was afraid you’d leave. But you’re getting older and when the time is right, I hope I can hand this to you without reservation.

You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m sure you’ll be a great man and father one day.

Your Grandma

The papers behind it are cashiers checks. When I count them, my breathing quickens. There’s so much money here. More than I’ve ever seen. It’s not millions or anything, but this is enough money for Shep to quit the mine for sure. Maybe pay off the trailer.

My own mom stuffed half her cash into her mattress. People around here don’t always trust banks. Why hadn’t Shep ever thought to look for this? I imagine his grandma thought she’d live long enough to give it to him herself. I was sad she didn’t get a chance to see his face as he realized what she had done for him.

More important, though, was that this was what we needed. Proof to get Shep off the hook and money to start fresh.

As I start getting dressed, I grab my phone, eager to call Buck. I have a text message from a number I don’t know.

Vickie, this is Shep. I gotta talk to you. Text me back as soon as you get this.

My eyebrows pinch together, but I reply.
Shep, what’s this number?

He must have been waiting, because the phone pings soon after.
Just a cheap phone I picked up. Vickie, I need your help.

What do you need??

Come meet me at the falls. The cabin there. You know it?

Everyone knew about the cabin. It wasn’t actually a cabin. It was an old tobacco shed in the middle of the woods next to an abandoned tobacco field. Every high school class has a group that uses it for parties because you can’t get there by car, so the cops don’t find it. Of course, it’s been used long enough the cops now once partied in it before, but I figure they think as long as teenagers aren’t drinking and driving, it isn’t worth the hassle of busting the place.

Yeah, I know where it is
.

Meet me there in an hour. I’ll call Buck, too.

Just in case Buck’s angry enough to not be checking his phone, I leave him a quick note telling him where I’m going. Feeling euphoric, I grab the journal and head out to my bike. The cabin is only two or so miles from the trailer park. Peddling hard, bliss keeps me focused. Mama’s death is still there, but I knew Shep hadn’t done it, so I couldn’t stand the thought that he might be blamed for it.

Things had changed so much since the first night that Buck and Shep saved me from having to do something I didn’t want. I know that if they hadn’t showed up, I would’ve caved, too scared to say no. It would have set me down a path that I didn’t want, staying in my mama’s trailer and letting her sell me out to keep the roof over both of our heads.

With the help of Shep and Buck, I was in school. Not only in it, but thriving. With them, I felt confident. Comfortable. I loved being able to care for them and be cared for by them. I loved their temperaments and how they seemed to play off each other, creating a balance that just needed me to be complete.

The collapse at the mine and now this. I get why Buck was so frantic. We needed each other. It was all or nothing, and it had felt dangerously close to nothing for a moment.

There’s no one at the park gate. People don’t come out here often if it isn’t after hours, and the trails are too overgrown for pleasure. In fact, I’m forced to hop off my bike and walk it through the heavy ferns and roots. Eventually I rest it on a tree, too tired to keep pushing.

Another twenty minutes and I see the cabin. My heart is flying from the walk and elation and knowing I can fix this. I can save Shep, the way he and Buck saved me.

There’s no door to the shed, but it’s dark inside. Stepping in, I scan the shadows. “Shep?”

It’s then that the feeling returns. I’m being watched. The feeling is malicious, the air suddenly thin.

A hand closes over my mouth.